


The Bedtime Story

by Cassunjey



Series: A Traveller in Middle-earth [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother Feels, Canon Related, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Pre-Canon, Young Fíli and Kíli, Young Gimli
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassunjey/pseuds/Cassunjey
Summary: It's a great honour to be named Thorin Oakenshield's heirs.Fili and Kili find it hard to adjust to their new roles. After a mistake threatens the security of the settlement they decide it might be better for everyone if they made their own way in the world.Set prior to the events of The Hobbit.
Relationships: Fíli & Kíli (Tolkien)
Series: A Traveller in Middle-earth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928956
Comments: 68
Kudos: 41





	1. What have you done this time?

**Author's Note:**

> In 'A Traveller in Middle-earth' Kili tells Ness a bedtime story. 
> 
> This is the full version of that bedtime story.
> 
> No need to read the other work to read this one. This is very much a stand alone side story. 
> 
> (Please note this story has a lower rating than the main work.)
> 
> \-------------------  
> Khuzdul
> 
> Amad - Mother  
> Adad - Father

“And then Thorin arrived and brought us home and that was the end of that.” Kili swung his legs off the bed and sat forward a little in the armchair, listened to her soft breathing. He thought she might be asleep.

Quietly he stood and placed his mug besides hers on the bedside table. Looked down at her, definitely asleep.

I'll just stay a little while and let the fire die down a bit, he thought, sitting down again and slinging his legs over the arm of the chair.

Wriggling down into the cushions contentedly, Kili yawned. The hobbit’s home was very comfortable indeed, cosy and warm. Hobbiton looked very pleasant too, perhaps tomorrow he could steal Fili away for an hour or two and they could have a proper look around.

He pulled at his lip and thought about the story he'd just told, he'd left a few pertinent details out and glossed over some of the not quite so fun bits but for a bedtime story it seemed to have done the trick.

It felt like a lifetime ago now and he supposed it was.

Half a lifetime ago anyway.

* * *

Kili rolled to his feet and smoothed out his tunic, knocking the worst of the dust from his trousers as the door to his uncle's chambers opened. He clasped his hands behind his back and planted his feet, ready to pretend he'd been standing patiently waiting the whole time.

Amad smiled at him and pushed Fili out of the door, pressing a quick kiss against his brother's temple as she sent him on his way. Kili stared. Fili's face was bloodless, eyes wider than Kili had ever seen them before.

“Fee-” he begun, worried, stretching out a hand to his brother.

“Kili. Don't keep your uncle waiting.” Amad beckoned to him, the smile disappearing and her eyebrows drawing down in the way they did when she suspected Kili was thinking to disobey her.

Moving forward obediently Kili looked back over his shoulder at his brother as Fili moved off silently down the passageway. Quickly Kili tried to run over everything they'd done recently. It must have been something pretty bad.

He had a few possibilities by the time they made it across the antechamber and reached the door of the study.

Kili wished Amad had given him just a moment to whisper with Fili.

I'll just have to tell the truth I suppose, he thought sadly. Whatever it is. He sighed heavily, I wonder how long we're going to be confined to the mountain for this time. And in fine weather too. It wasn't fair.

He huffed out a breath and pulled back his shoulders. Tilted his chin. Braced himself for whatever it was that had so upset his big brother.

The door swung open and he walked into the spartan chamber. Stood in front of his uncles desk, slightly sweaty hands clasped behind his back. He waited quietly.

After what felt like forever Thorin finished reading the parchment, looked up and smiled fondly at him. Kili relaxed instantly. Whatever it was, it couldn't be that bad.

* * *

Kili bounced down the final set of wide steps and onto the cobblestones. He looked around, expecting to see his brother leaning against a wall, head tilted up to the weak winter sun and eyes closed. Waiting patiently for him. Kili took a second more careful look up and down the busy street, frowned a little in confusion.

Training yard, he thought, he'll be there.

* * *

“Sorry, lad. Haven't seen him.” Dwalin looked away from the bout and down at him, furrowed his eyebrows. “What have you done this time?”

Kili was insulted, he drew himself up to his full height and looked up at his tutor.

Dwalin chuckled and grabbed Kili's chin, tilting his head side to side. “It's going to take me a while to get used to this. Tidy job though, you're getting the hang of it.”

“Go on then.” Dwalin released him and waved dismissively. “Go find him. And take your scowls with you.”

Kili stomped back out onto the main street. He looked across into the market, dismissed it. Fili wouldn't be browsing the stalls without him.

Home, he thought, he'll be at home.

* * *

But he wasn't at home, or in the other half dozen places Kili could think of.

Out of ideas Kili wandered down through the quieter streets toward the main gate. He huffed out a breath as his eyes fell on the alehouse. It wasn't likely but he thought he may as well take a quick look.

He cracked the heavy door and peeped through, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the smoky darkness.

“Kili.” A familiar shape waved at him from the bar.

Kili glanced back both ways along the street, just in case Amad was behind him, and made his way through the mostly empty tables to join the captain of his mother's personal guard.

“Hello, lad.” Molir patted the stool beside him and raised a finger to the barkeep. "What are you doing in here? Your amad will box your ears if she catches you in the alehouse in the middle of the afternoon.”

She'll box my ears if she catches me in an alehouse at all, Kili thought as a tankard of ale was set in front of him.

“You called me in!” He took a sip and remembered his manners. “Thank you for the ale.”

Molir shrugged. “Big day today, how are you feeling?”

It was Kili's turn to shrug as he took another slug of ale, he heard the alehouse door creak open and spun on the stool. Not Amad. He settled himself again, heart beating a little fast, and smiled at Molir.

“Good lad, there's not much phases you, Kili, eh? It's a big honour, should ruffle a few feathers too.” Molir chuckled to himself, filling his pipe.

Kili hadn't considered ruffled feathers. He thought about it for a moment and dismissed it. Thorin was bound to have considered every angle. He shrugged and took another large mouthful. “Have you seen Fee?”

“Headed out the gate an hour or so ago. Kili. Where are you going?”

* * *

It was a lot colder outside the front gate, the promise of snow on the air. Kili looked back at the guard. “Toward the valley you said?”

“He headed that way anyway.” The guard lowered his eyebrows. “Your amad know you're out here by yourself?”

Kili rolled his eyes, making sure he faced away so the guard didn't see. “Of course. I was just a bit delayed, that's all. I'll go catch him up now.” He walked off quickly, ignored the guard calling his name behind him. Fussing with his bracer and pretending he hadn't heard.

He started running once he was out of sight of the gate, knowing now where his brother would be. I should have come out here first, he thought as he turned off the mountain road, weaved his way through the boulders.

* * *

He slowed as he grew closer to the ridge, the ground wasn't as stable here. No sense in taking a tumble down the mountain.

“Fee!” he shouted as he spotted the familiar form.

His brother turned and looked over his shoulder. Kili pretended he hadn't seen the scowl and hopped across to their rock, scooting forward and settling himself down.

He looked down between their dangling boots into the valley below.

“You didn't wait for me.” Kili tried to keep the accusation out of his voice as he picked up a pebble and held his hand out over the drop. He turned his palm and released it. Watched it fall down towards the valley floor far below. “I looked everywhere for you.”

“Have you been drinking?” Fili didn't look happy. “And please don't tell me you don't have as much as a knife with you, Kili. And where's your cloak?” He shrugged out of his and shoved it at Kili.

Kili wrapped the cloak around himself obediently, recognising that his brother needed to fuss.

“Thank you.” He smiled appealingly at Fili, looking down again between his swinging boots when that failed to take the angry look from Fili's face.

They sat in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk?”

His brother shook his big, shaggy head. Kili reminded himself to redo Fili's braids as the wind tugged at his own hair. They would need to start looking a bit more presentable now, his uncle had said so. Kili lifted some more pebbles.

“I bet you can't hit that rock over there. The one with the white flowers.”

Fili lifted his head, followed Kili's pointing finger.

“What do you bet me?”

“The dishes.”

“For the next week.” Fili held out his hand. “Best of three?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing Fili and Kili, this story will be mainly from Kili's pov.
> 
> They are a good bit younger in this story than in The Hobbit. Kili has just reached 'adulthood' but they'd both be considered very young by dwarven standards. 
> 
> Any and all feedback greatly appreciated.


	2. The last of the dwarf lords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain arrives for the heir-naming celebrations.

Kili watched his brother in the cracked mirror. “I'll do that for you in a moment, Fee.”

Fili scrubbed his hands through his hair, unravelling the braid he'd been making a mess of. He flung the metal bead in his hand away, followed quickly by the others before flopping back onto the bed with a growl.

“You may go and find those, brother.” Kili listened to the plinks and rattles as the hair beads bounced their way across the flagstones. Lifting his chin he made a final careful pass with the knife and ran his fingers over the stubble.

He stared at his reflection and huffed out his cheeks. “I don't think I'll ever get used to this. I don't look like myself. There must be another way.”

“Set aside your bow and take up the axe.” Fili opened an eye and looked up at him, a slight smile on his face as he met Kili's eyes in the mirror. “That's the other way.”

His brother was making absolutely no effort to go and find the beads he'd flung across the room, Kili noted as he splashed water on his face and meticulously cleaned the knife in the basin. As he dried off he cast about looking for them.

“Did you throw all of them?”

Gathering up as many as he could find he pushed them into Fili's unresisting hand and hauled his brother up to sitting before retrieving the discarded comb from the floor. He inspected Fili's own short beard and moustache braids before settling himself in behind and sectioning off a thick hank of hair.

“You'll be fine.”

Fili grunted under his fingers.

“You will.”

“What if they expect me to say something?” Fili twisted to look up at him, ruining the tension of the braid. Kili tutted and pushed his head back, started again.

“If you were expected to say anything Uncle Thorin would told you what it was, and made you rehearse it until you were word perfect. Just try and relax and enjoy it, Fee. It's a big honour, remember?”

Fili made a non committal noise.

“Amad says there'll be cake.” Kili tied off one the braids and checked it, smiling in satisfaction. He lifted another section and combed it out. “And she says we're to be sure not to drink too much ale.”

“Would she like us to drink milk instead perhaps?” Fili laughed but there was no humour in it. “We need to look grown tonight, Kili.”

“We are grown, brother.”

“Dain patted me on the head today.”

“Oh.” Kili didn't need to see his brother's face to know what expression would be there. “I expect he didn't mean anything by it, Fee. He hasn't seen you in a very long time.”

They had only been little dwarflings the last time Dain had visited. Kili smiled, remembering his childish protests as his amad had forced into uncomfortable, stiff formal clothes and warned him to be on his best behaviour.

Washed and brushed to within an inch of his life he'd held tightly to Fili's hand and they had followed their amad through the streets of the settlement, careful not to get their clean clothes or boots dusty. Amad had led them up the wide steps into the halls of the king and down the series of long, dark passageways that led to their uncle's chambers.

With a final smoothing of their hair and a smile Amad had opened the door and ushered them in ahead of her. Kili remembered gripping Fili's hand even tighter and hiding behind his big brother as a huge, flame haired dwarf leapt to his feet with a roar and rushed across the antechamber toward them.

The dwarf had paused briefly to touch Fili's cheek before lifting their amad off her feet and holding her tightly. Kili had heard a strange noise and stared up in confusion for some moments before he had realised his amad was crying.

He had clung to his brother for comfort and Fili had held him tightly and shushed him before strong arms wrapped around both of them, pulling them apart. Fili had protested, kicking hard in a useless fury, and Kili had cried harder, trying to reach for both his amad and his brother as they were carried out the door and back along the passageway.

He remembered Molir setting them down and crouching before them. Wiping away tears and explaining patiently that no-one was hurting their amad. That the dwarf was their amad's cousin and therefore their cousin and that they hadn't seen each other in a very long time, since before Fili and Kili were born.

Molir had looked at Fili seriously and told him that Dain had been a good friend of their adad. Kili had hiccoughed sadly as he watched Fili's clenched fists relax and taken his cue from there. And so, when Molir had held out his arms and suggested they visit the market for pastries he'd jumped up into the big dwarf's arms happily, his upset forgotten.

By the time they'd returned, having been made a fuss over by the stallholders and with bellies stuffed full of treats, Amad, Thorin and Dain were settled into chairs around the fire in Thorin's study.

Kili had shook his head and pushed tight into Molir's neck when Dain had called to him. He had still been a little frightened of the loud stranger and he was happy to be held safe and warm on the captain's hip. Peeking out between the grey braids that smelled comfortingly of pipesmoke he had watched silently as Fili strode forward instead and presented himself to Dain with a confident bow.

Dain had laughed again as he tilted Fili’s head back, turning him this way and that and exclaiming over him. There'd been a lot of rapid talk that Kili hadn't followed at the time but after understood had been Dain's wonder at Fili's likeness to both his uncle and to his adad.

It had been the glint of gold that did it.

Dain had pressed the fat coin into Fili's hand and Kili lifted his head at the glitter of the metal in the firelight, one hand fisted in Molir's hair and the other tightly wrapped in his beard.

“I think the presents are only for very brave dwarflings,” Molir whispered in his ear.

Amad had looked at him then and smiled encouragingly, nodded a little.

Kili had suddenly, desperately, wanted a present and wriggled to get down. He'd tried to tug Molir with him but he may as well have tried to tow the mountain. When it finally became clear that he was on his own Kili tried to emulate his brother, walking with an exaggerated confidence he didn't feel to Fili's side.

Dain had been even more frightening up close but Kili had grasped his brother's hand tightly and that gave him courage.

He remembered Fili had reached across and pulled his fist away from his mouth, whispering a reminder to bow and say his greeting like he'd been taught to.

The huge dwarf had laughed again, the sound filling the room, as Kili bowed. Kili had braced himself to be turned about like Fili before getting his present so he had yelped with surprise to be swept up instead and perched on Dain's knee.

He'd stared at Fili in speechless horror as Dain ruffled his hair and patted him hard on the head.

Then Thorin had called Fili away and Kili had been left trapped with the stranger. The gold coin had helped a little. The stories of orcs and goblins told in a loud voice with no regard for young ears had tipped the balance.

By the end of Dain's visit Kili had been closer to the warlord than his own shadow. Clamouring for more stories, the bloodthirstier the better. Dain had been amused and more than happy to oblige. Kili had woken up from screaming nightmares for weeks. Amad had been furious.

Hopeful for more new stories Kili had been excited at the prospect of seeing Dain again. Each time he had heard of a new lord arriving for the celebrations he'd raced to the gates only to be disappointed.

He and his cousin Gimli had been enjoying the warm sun in the training yard and watching Dwalin wrestle when the news arrived. The long awaited lord of the Iron Hills had finally been spotted making his way up the valley. Gimli had grinned at him, this time it could be none other than Dain. There was none left to arrive.

They had leapt to their feet as one and taken the shortest route through the alleyways and down to the main gate. Their boots pounding on the cobbles as they pushed at each other and raced to join the small crowd already gathered inside the huge gateway to Thorin's Halls.

Making his way through the crowd behind Gimli’s solid form Kili had spotted Molir holding a prime position to one side of the massive iron gate. The captain waved them over, moving grumbling dwarves aside to clear a space for them in the front row.

“Hello there, lads. Can you both see? Where's your brother?”

“I haven't seen him all day." Kili had pouted a little before he could stop himself. “And I didn't see him yesterday either.”

That wasn't strictly true, he'd seen Fili briefly when his brother had tiptoed into their room well after he should have been abed. Fili had murmured an apology for waking him as he'd quickly stripped and crawled under the blankets, asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Kili had opened his eyes as the door quietly closed behind Fili well before the dawn. He'd stretched and roused himself, pulling on his clothes and intending to join his brother for an early breakfast. But by the time he opened the bedroom door Fili was gone. The living quarters cold and silent.

He had been sitting quietly at the kitchen table, feeling a little sad and lonely, when he'd heard Amad stirring. She'd been pleased to come out and find the range and fire hurridly lit and Kili all cheerful smiles as he made breakfast for her.

“Ah." Molir smiled sympathetically. “Closeted away with your Uncle Thorin I expect. Missing all the fun. Not to worry, lad, it'll all settle down after this pomp and ceremony’s over with. At least you've still got this one to get up to mischief with.”

Molir slapped Gimli's shoulder hard as a cheer went up from the crowd. They leant forward with everyone else and looked out along the road, watching the progress of the last of the dwarf lords to arrive for the celebrations.

“Look at the goats." Gimli grinned up at Kili. “They're massive.”

Kili nodded in agreement as they clapped and watched Dain draw closer with his mounted guard. There must have been a hundred of them at least, Kili thought, as he counted quickly. And more of his folk in the wagons. The biggest entourage by far of all the dwarf lords.

The first warriors rode past slowly, stern faced and heavily armoured. Sunlight glinting off the huge battleaxes and shields on their backs. The goats in full armour too. Kili felt a little sorry for the stout beasts.

“Did they ride geared up for war the whole way, do you think?” He leant down and whispered in Gimli's ear. “Or were they in their smallclothes until the last ridge?”

“I didn't realise the Great East Road was so dangerous," Gimli whispered back with a grin.

“Must be those halflings.”

“Need your heavy armour on in case they start throwing cabbages. Nasty wee buggers.”

The pair of them dissolved into helpless laughter, recovering their composure only to set each other off again.

“Prince Kili.”

Kili sobered instantly as he looked up at Dain. The warlord huge and intimidating upon by far the biggest, most murderous looking pig Kili had ever laid eyes on.

Distracted, his eyes fell on the beast's yellowed tusks. He tried to imagine how you made the decision to ride a creature that looked like it wanted to eat you.

What happens if you fall off, he wondered as he looked into the depths of it's mad eyes.

“I'm glad you find us amusing, lad.”

“Oh, I...” Kili's mind went completely blank. He realised he was speaking to the pig and looked up to meet Dain's eyes as he tried again. “I wasn't-”

“Apologies, Lord Dain.” Molir's heavy hand landed hard on Kili's shoulder. A warning to stop talking.

“I was just having a bit of a laugh with the lads. Old war stories. You know how it is. Can't help myself when I've a captive audience.” He gave Kili a little shake and Kili nodded up at Dain enthusiastically.

“Nice beard.” Dain ignored Molir as he turned the pig away from them.

The dwarf lord had grinned at Kili before he rode on into the mountain settlement. “I'll be seeing you later. Prince Kili.”

Kili felt that perhaps he wasn't really looking forward to seeing Dain again later after all.

He sighed as he combed his fingers through Fili's hair, separating the curls before lifting the last section to be braided.

“When did you see him?” he asked Fili.

“Uncle sent me to the training yard for a few hours after we finished for the day. Then he and Dain and some of the other lords came down. They watched a few of my bouts and then they called me over. Dain patted me on the head and smiled at me like I was a little dwarfling playing with my first sword.”

Fili growled a little, “I half expected him to hand me some gold trinket and send me on my way. It was an affront.”

His brother was looking exhausted, Kili thought, as he fixed the last bead on securely and moved around to look at Fili face to face. He tugged on the braids, making sure they were all perfect.

“Ah. That may have been my fault," Kili admitted as he studied the dark smudges under Fili's eyes. He touched a line on his brother's forehead, sure it hadn't been there only half a year ago.

He told Fili about meeting Dain at the gate, pleased to see Fili's eyes sparkle with amusement.

It'll be fine, he thought, relieved to hear his brother's laugh. We'll get this ceremony over and get back to normal. Then I'll get my Fili back.

* * *

“Amad, you look beautiful.” Kili leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“I should, it's taken long enough.” Dis pushed a stray hair behind her son's ear and patted his cheek as she smiled up at him. “You're looking very tidy, Kili. Very handsome. Where's Fili?”

Dis followed the incline of his head and spotted Fili beside Thorin across the crowded chamber. He looked deep in conversation with one of the Ironfist lords, his hair gleaming golden in the torchlight, his young face serious. She nodded with satisfaction and turned back to Kili.

“Is that ale?”

“Amad," he hissed, embarrassed.

“What did I tell you?”

“Everyone keeps patting me on the back and giving me more. I've lost count of how many I've abandoned. I've hardly drank any, I promise.”

Dis pulled the tankard from his hand and took a long drink before handing it back to him. She ground her teeth a little. Her shoes were pinching her feet and she couldn't breathe under the tight lacing of her slightly too small, stiff formal gown but these things must be borne.

It would be a night of excess and celebration. In fact the whole holiday would be an excess but it needed to be done and there was no way around it. It simply would not do for the other dwarf clans to view Thorin's folk as paupers.

She had sat many long hours with Thorin and Balin as they had made their way painstakingly through the settlement's accounts, trying to balance out how they could possibly expect to host so many.

It had taken quite a bit of juggling and a lot of creativity and they could expect more than a few lean years to follow, but Dis felt if they kept a tight hold of things then they could just about manage.

Fili had sat, wide eyed and horrified, and listened as they discussed the amounts of gold his kin intended to spend just to announce his and Kili’s positions as Thorin's next in line.

They had nodded and paid lip service to his youthful, earnest suggestions as he proposed how they could cut back on expenses. Dis smiled as she remembered Thorin fondly rolling his eyes at her behind Fili's bowed head whilst her boy confidently discussed an idea with Balin.

She had known then that Fili's time in those particular meetings was coming to an end.

Thorin had taken to sending him away to train for the tournament when the time came to discuss the party finances.

Dis nodded in satisfaction. They had managed it. Thorin's Halls looked grander than it ever had, the streets swept and clean. Every housefront had been inspected and tidied. The seldom used banqueting hall and the usually dark passageways lit by hundreds of expensive torches.

No expense had been spared as they ordered enough food and drink to fete the lords and their entourages, although Dis had winced at each new influx, calculating and recalculating room and board costs. Their debts were enough to make her blanch if she thought about it too deeply.

The alehouses and shopkeeps had better make a killing over the next few weeks, she thought grimly as she looked around the throng.

She smiled at her cousin Dain as he made his way through the throng towards them, his arms flung wide.

“Cousin!” Dain exclaimed happily, as he squeezed out what little air remained in her lungs. "Why, I half expected you to have shaved your beard off too!”

Dis touched the braided ropes of her beard as Dain released her, noted Kili's downcast face. “I do not have the courage for that.” She smiled at Dain and kept an eye on Kili, noticed him lifting his chin a little. “No, Thorin will just have to be assured of my support for his cause without that level of sacrifice.”

“Oh yes, I had forgotten. The cause.”

Dis knew her wily cousin forgot nothing.

“Erebor. Of course.” Dain turned to Kili. “You might have a cold chin for a while then, lad. There's the small matter of a dragon to be dealt with before your uncle can claim back that particular mountain.”

Dain took her arm, drawing her away. Dis flicked her fingers at Kili, telling him to go join his brother. She ignored his desperate signed reply that he had already tried.

“Dis. Your brother cannot take that mountain. It is a fool's hope.” Dain glanced around and lowered his voice further. “He spoke of little else earlier. You must convince him-"

“You know my brother, he is determined and he will find a way. You should not doubt him. He is your king.”

Dain snorted, “King. Of course he is, lass. And now it'll be your Fili after him, if he doesn't get them both killed. But they can play at being king here just as well as in Erebor. You seem to be doing well enough, leave the wyrm to nest and rot in his hoard.”

They both looked up as a long horn note announced dinner. Dain leaned in closer. “You must keep him away from that mountain. My people are only a few days away as the dragon flies, so to speak. I do not want Smaug's wrath visited upon our heads when he has finished eating yours.”

“I did not think much frightened an old warrior like you.”

“A live dragon?” Dain released her arm. “I know my limitations. I'm not so certain our self proclaimed king does. You mark my words, cousin, that mountain is a tomb.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be told mainly from Kili's point of view but I just couldn't resist a bit of Dis. 
> 
> Nb. When Dis is talking with Dain and signs to Kili to tell him to join his brother they are speaking using Iglishmêk.


	3. Blasphemy as well as disrespect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin formally announces his heirs.

Kili pushed back his chair and stood as his uncle called his name.

The crowded tables stamped and cheered enthusiastically. Although, considering the quantities of ale and wine served over dinner Kili wasn't entirely convinced that Thorin couldn't have announced that he intended to murder them all in their beds and they wouldn't have cheered along merrily.

Still, Kili stood solemnly with his hands clasped behind his back and accepted the applause as befitting his new position as Thorin's heir. He wasn't expected to say anything, in fact Thorin had specifically forbade him to say anything, he just had to stand straight faced and do his best to look regal until Thorin signalled to him to sit down.

Easy.

He sneaked a sideways glance at his brother, the newly announced Crown Prince of Durin's folk, and thought he'd never seen Fili standing so tall and proud.

The actual heir, Kili thought to himself, I'm just a spare. As Thorin said, once Fili gets married and has dwarflings of his own then they'll be the spare ones.

Fili had looked horrified when Kili had told him that. Kili had done a convincing, to his mind anyway, impression of Thorin and everything. He snickered at the memory before he could stop himself.

Smothering the grin Kili ducked his head and cursed inwardly, certain he could hear his uncle's exasperated sigh over the noise in the hall.

* * *

"Could you not have kept a straight face for a few moments longer, brother?”

Kili laughed as Fili handed him a mug of ale. “Apparently not. Are you sure we should have any more?”

“I think we may be the most sensible out of all of them by this point.”

Kili followed Fili's eyes as they looked out over the hall. The musicians had started, although the fiddles could barely be heard over the hubbub of voices. Kili tried to make out the tune but couldn't recognise it.

“Should we just go? You haven't even seen Dain's pig yet. We could go to the stables and take it something to eat. I'm not sure what it would like though...” Kili considered the discarded food scattered across the nearest table. “What do you think a giant pig would eat? Potatoes, maybe? A fat, little dwarfling? Although I'm not sure we have one of those.”

“We can't leave.” Fili was smiling.

“Yes. We absolutely can. They'll never miss us, not now. Please. I think I may never have been so bored in my whole life.”

“Really? Never in your whole life?” Fili grinned at him, “What about last week when Balin-”

“No. This is worse. Honestly, I'm not allowed to talk to anybody. Not that it matters since no-one has said more than ‘Well done, lad’ to me all night. And I haven’t even done anything well. Apart from being born as your brother, obviously. Which was just luck.”

He thought about that, “But then it is all just luck, isn't it? This great honour.”

“Kili.”

“What was I talking about? Oh yes, no-one talking to me. Actually, now I think of it, I'm telling a lie. Forgive me. One old greybeard did talk to me. Something to do with the price of turnips or something somewhere really, really dull. And I had to nod along and pretend that it was the most interesting thing and he kept droning on and on and on. You would have been proud. I could actually feel the life just draining out of me.”

“Kili.”

“I was staring past him at the doors just begging for them to burst open and a horde of orcs to run in so I could have an excuse to get away. I still have no idea who he was. Or what he expected from me. In fact I think I might actually have died of boredom and I just haven't realised it.”

He grasped Fili's arm and widened his eyes in mock horror. “Is this Mahal's Halls? I can't stay here until the world is renewed. I’ll go mad. Do you think I...?”

Kili tailed off as his brother frantically signalled to him to be quiet. As he looked into Fili's eyes he wondered who was standing behind him, and crucially how much they'd overheard.

It would be Amad, he reckoned, or if he was really unlucky...

“I apologise that your new duties are not of interest to you, my sister-son.”

Kili swore under his breath and turned slowly.

“Blasphemy as well as disrespect.” Thorin lifted the mug from Kili's hand and sniffed it, handing it to a passing dwarf and waving them on their way. “I think it's past time you went home.”

“Uncle, I-”

Thorin held up a hand for silence and Kili dropped his head, his face burning.

As the heavy door closed slowly behind him Kili glanced back. His eyes sought out his brother, laughing heartily in a circle of important looking dwarves, looking for all the world like he belonged there. Thorin's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

* * *

Kili lifted his head from the table as the front door opened.

“Hello, Amad.”

He smiled as his amad wobbled on first one foot and then the other to kick her bejewelled slippers across the living quarters. She wiggled her bare toes happily against the flagstones.

“Thank goodness for that, I was losing the feeling in my toes. You're my good boy, coming home and getting the fire on.”

She hasn't spoken to Thorin then, Kili thought as he moved to fill the kettle. “Tea, Amad?”

She beamed at him. A little drunkenly, Kili realised. He grinned back at her. He'd never seen her properly drunk before.

“Yes, please. But first come help loosen these laces before I take a knife to myself. I can't bear it another moment.”

He helped her and watched as she made her way a little unsteadily to her room, muttering about torture devices.

The kettle was just beginning to whistle and Kili was busy toasting some slightly old bread when the front door opened again.

“Brother, you're still up. Is Amad home?”

He nodded and Fili sighed with relief. He came inside, closing the door firmly and turning the key.

Kili raised his eyebrows at his brother. They never locked the door.

“Thank goodness for that. I told her to wait for me whilst I finished up and she promised she would but then the moment my back was turned she disappeared. And then I couldn't get away.”

Heeling off his boots Fili set them neatly beside Kili's and tossed the key onto the sideboard. “Then when I did get away no-one could tell me where she'd gone. I had to ask one of the dams to check the bathroom.”

Fili flushed to his hairline. “Eventually I found someone who was sure they'd seen her leave and I ran all the way back here.” He crossed the room and wrapped Kili up in a tight hug. “Are you all right, my brother?”

Kili nodded into his shoulder.

He was about to ask Fili if Thorin had said anything further when Amad swung the door of her room open and re-emerged dressed in her nightclothes and looking much happier.

“I can smell toast." She smiled at them as she pulled her wrapper tightly around her shoulders and dropped down at the table. “Do we have any of the blackberry jam left?”

“You didn't wait for me, Amad.” Fili sounded cross as he rapped the table smartly and sat down opposite her. “The settlement is full of strangers tonight. Drunk strangers.”

Amad snorted.

“Amad, I'm serious. You told Molir you would wait for me and you promised me and then you just left. Honestly, what if-”

“My son. Do you think me weak and defenceless?”

“No. Of course not, but-”

There was no possible way that sentence was going to end well, Kili felt. He abandoned his hunt for jam, grabbed the toast and shoved a slice into his brother's hand to distract him.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” he asked Fili brightly, setting down plates and mugs with a clatter and pouring the tea. “It's been forever since we've been out hunting, the rabbits will be getting fat and lazy. You could have a little lie in and then we could go out and catch dinner?”

Fili looked down at the table, and Kili felt the sting of disappointment. He tried his best to keep the whine out of his voice. "But surely you have a day off tomorrow? They'll all be fit for nothing.”

“I've to report to Uncle Thorin in the morning.” Fili met Kili's eyes.

Kili watched as his brother's fingers busily pulled the slice of toast to pieces on his plate.

“I'm sorry. Another time, I promise. Why don't you take Gimli?” Fili dropped the remains of his uneaten toast and stood, pushing the bench back a little. “I'm really tired, I should probably head to bed.”

Kili flopped down heavily onto the bench and watched his brother leave him.

“Gimli breathes too loud," he muttered as the bedroom door clicked closed. Amad stroking his hair as she whispered something soothing. “I could shoot him in the dark.”

He sighed sadly and turned to look at her. “It's just not the same.”


	4. Just a spar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warrior

Kili drew the bowstring to his ear and attempted to focus. Nearby a large group of dwarves were noisily sparring and he tried to block them out as they shouted to each other.

He loosed the arrow, nodding with satisfaction as it shivered in the target he’d built in the corner of the training yard.

The lack of beard did make shooting a lot easier. And less painful.

Not that he would ever admit it out loud.

Moving a few feet further back, Kili reached for another arrow. He concentrated on his movements, starting slow, keeping every motion smooth and controlled. It was difficult. Kili wanted it to be as natural and easy as breathing and he felt he had a long way to go.

His quiver wasn't quite right. He adjusted it slightly and felt a little happier. A hand over his shoulder to pull an arrow then nock, draw, sight and release. He repeated until to shoot more would risk damage to his carefully crafted shafts.

As he looked critically at the spread of his arrows on the target Kili hissed unhappily. He was still stinging a little from his uncle's lecture and finding it hard to concentrate and it showed. Only two in the centre ring. He ground his teeth. It wasn't good enough.

Determined to do better he strode to retrieve his arrows, working them gently out of the target and checking them over before returning them one by one to his quiver.

He was resolved to work harder. It wasn't a nice feeling to know his uncle was disappointed in him. Disappointment was a hundred times worse than anger. And Thorin had made it very clear that poor behaviour on Kili's part reflected badly on both himself, which was bad, and on Fili, which was worse.

Kili's ears burned with remembered shame. He ran his thumb over the fletching of the last arrow and looked at it critically. It would need replaced.

As he returned to his mark, still examining the fletching, he heard his name shouted from across the yard. A dwarf he didn't recognise hailing him.

“Prince Kili,” the dwarf shouted again. “Perhaps you could tear yourself away from your archery practise long enough to show us your skills with the sword.”

“Let the boy be.” Laughed another as he lifted a practice sword. “You can see as well as I that he's barely more than a beardless dwarfling. I’ll give you a bout.”

Kili stopped mid stride, his pride hurt.

He jogged across to the group, unslinging his bow and quiver. The dwarf who had laughed took them from him and handed him sword and shield in return.

“I stand corrected, lad. You're a brave one after all. Good luck.”

He winked and stepped back and Kili properly considered his opponent.

Height and youth, he told himself confidently as the squat, grizzled warrior leered at him, that's two advantages. And he's obviously lost before or he wouldn't have those scars. Probably.

Afterward he would be surprised he lasted as long as he did, although looking back Kili wasn't sure the warrior hadn't just been toying with him all along.

It had been a nasty move that finished him though. Knocked a little off balance Kili had blocked a particularly brutal low strike with his sword and in the same instant the warrior had taken advantage.

The edge of the shield had caught him by surprise as it was brought it down hard and deliberately against the hilt of Kili's sword, straight across the backs of his fingers.

Kili had managed a shocked yelp before the knee to the stomach drove the air from his lungs. As he staggered the warrior kicked him to the ground hard. Kili didn't care though, the panic about the pain in the fingers of his right hand driving all other thoughts from his head.

Dimly he recognised someone calling a halt as he was dragged roughly to his feet.

“Are you all right?” a kind voice asked, Kili nodded as he recognised the dwarf who'd taken his bow. The dwarf smiled at him.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Kili looked up as his brother pushed his way through the dwarves.

“Just having a spar." The warrior spun the practice sword and smiled at Fili in challenge. “Your brother needs a bit more practice with traditional weaponry, Crown Prince.”

Fili looked at him. Kili nodded and managed a smile. “It was just a spar.”

“I've heard you have some skill with a blade.”

Ignoring the warrior Fili frowned at Kili. Kili realised he had his right hand tucked tightly under his left arm. The pressure was helping, he didn't want to move it.

He shook his head urgently and whispered a ‘no’ as Fili nodded once and turned away. His brother sliding a boot under the discarded sword and flicking it up to his hand in a smooth, practised movement.

One of the dwarves made to hand him a shield and Fili shook his head, motioning instead for a second sword.

“Best of three,” said the warrior as Fili spun the practice swords.

“You can have one,” said Fili quietly, “I'm busy.”

The circle widened to give them space, Kili pulled back by the dwarf who had helped him. He felt the scratch of a beard by his ear and warm breath on his face. “Does it hurt badly?”

“A little." Kili nodded as he watched the two circling each other, his heart beating a little faster with concern for his brother. “I'm sure it'll be fine.”

“Perhaps.”

The grip on his arm tightened, hard fingers digging into the meat of his arm.

“But then again, perhaps not. Might be hard to do that fancy elvish shooting of yours with snapped fingers, eh?”

Kili dragged his eyes away from Fili to look properly at the dwarf holding him.

“Might make you think twice before smirking and laughing at folk, perhaps? A valuable lesson for a prideful, youngling prince.”

Kili tried to pull himself free but the grip on his arm was iron.

“Let me go,” he hissed, “I didn't-"

“Behave yourself, little prince, or I'll squeeze those fingers of yours and make you howl. Now, you watch carefully while we show your high and mighty brother a thing or two.”

Kili bit his lip as the dwarf turned him back roughly to face the bout.

The swords clashed as his brother traded blows with the warrior, Fili spinning out of range as the older dwarf tried to use the shield as a bludgeon. Catcalls from the watchers as the warrior attacked again and again only for Fili to dodge away.

“Is this a fight or a dance?” one of the watchers called, laughing as others shouted for the warrior to finish it.

Kili bit back a warning as the warrior again missed Fili. This time by little more than a hair’s breath. But then Fili was attacking. A flurry of fast and hard blows that ended with a practice sword tight against the warrior's throat.

The warrior looked surprised. Fili dropped his swords to the dust and approached the dwarf holding Kili, his eyes narrowed.

The grip vanished from Kili's arm. Fili nodded at him and Kili moved forward quickly to his brother's side, a little nervous that Fili was now seemingly unarmed.

For a moment Kili truly didn't believe the circle would part for them but, after a few anxious heartbeats, the dwarves stood aside and let them pass. Fili lifted Kili's bow and quiver from the ground where they lay discarded and slung them over his own shoulders.

Once they were safely out of the yard and into the bustling main street Fili turned to him, drawing him into an alcove.

“How badly are you hurt?”

Kili shook his head, tucked his hand tighter under his arm.

“Kili.” Fili moved closer, green eyes full of concern.

“You're busy.”

“I'm too busy for them." Fili touched their foreheads together, smiled a little sadly. “I'm not too busy for you.”

“Oh.”

Despite the pulsing pain in his hand and the worry Kili felt a little flutter of happiness.

“We should probably get a little further away, just in case," said Fili. "Do you need to go to Oin?”

* * *

“I'm no medic, Kili. But I'm pretty sure this needs strapped.”

In that moment Kili didn't care if it needed amputated. He couldn't remember the last time they'd sat at the table for this long. Usually it was just him and Amad for dinner. And if Fili was there he wasn't really there.

Kili watched happily as Fili gently pressed the cold cloth back against his fingers.

“We should have gone to Oin,” Fili muttered, half to himself.

“When do you have to go back?”

Fili looked up at him, surprise on his face. “I'm not leaving you injured. Why would you think...? No, Thorin will just have to manage without me.” He grinned. “I'm sure he'll be just fine.”

“I don't want you to miss anything important.” That was an outright lie, but Kili felt like it should be said.

Fili soaked the cloth again in the bowl. “There is nothing in this world more important to me than you.”

Kili felt a warm glow inside, “And there's nothing-"

“Even if you are a fool.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Fili looked serious as he held the cloth against Kili's fingers again. "You let them goad you into a fight you could not possibly win.”

Kili tried to pull his hand away, insulted, but Fili held his wrist firmly.

“You did. And you are fortunate he only felt inclined to break your fingers rather than your thick head.”

“You beat him.”

Fili sighed. “I did. But that was far from a certainty.”

“You win every fight.”

“I most certainly do not. I'm flattered you think so. I get beaten a lot, and I put in a lot of hours. If I'd agreed to a second bout he would have put me to the ground.” He smiled at the expression on Kili's face. “Your faith in me is misplaced. I won only because he was overconfident and underestimated me. He wouldn't have made the same mistake twice.”

Serious again Fili continued, “When's the last time you sparred? Properly I mean. Not just mucking about with Gimli. Because I suspect it's been a while."

He wagged a thick finger in Kili's face. Suddenly looking a lot like Thorin, Kili realised. "So perhaps you would care to explain to me what in Durin's name possessed you to think that you could go up against one of Dain's personal guard by yourself and win?”

“Is that who that was? I didn't realise. And I'll have you know I've sparred plenty.”

That was a blatant lie and Fili raised his eyebrows.

Kili pressed on quickly. “You just haven't been there to see. He got lucky.”

“Kili.” Fili sounded frustrated now. “You were massively outclassed. He could have done you serious, permanent, damage and there would have been no witnesses. I was so scared when I saw you on the ground. You mustn't frighten me like that. Promise me.”

Kili dropped his eyes, his cheeks burning.

“I don't mean to hurt you but you must listen to me. Your skills are not mine.”

Fili's voice was gentle, Kili felt his brother's strong fingers lifting his chin and blinked hard to clear suddenly misty eyes.

“You were in trouble, and I was there. And there will come a time when I am in trouble and I can only hope that when that time comes you will be there for me.” He smiled. “Don't shake your head, little brother, I need you. I will never not need you. And there is no-one else I would have by my side. No-one.”

To Kili's embarrassment Fili swiped a tear from his face with a calloused thumb.

“They'll all be gone soon, and things will settle down. I've missed you too. Terribly. I'll talk to Thorin and I'll make time. And if you like we can train together again, properly. And you can try and teach me archery again. We'll go hunting, we'll do whatever you want to do.”

The old wooden bench creaked under his weight as he stood. “But first we need to get this hand fixed, come on. Let's go see Oin.”


	5. There will always be a target on our backs now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tourney draw.

Kili inched a finger under the tight strapping.

“Leave it alone.”

He glared at his cousin. “It's itchy.”

“Of course it is, it’s healing. Let it be." Gimli tore his eyes away from the construction of the tourney ground far below their dangling boots. “I still can't believe you let one of Dain's folk break three of your fingers.”

The dwarf lords had decided that the training yard within the settlement was not quite large enough to hold the games marking the end of the celebrations, so Thorin had ordered the builders construct a more suitable venue at once. One that could hold all the participants and spectators in comfort.

A plateau on the lower eastern spur of the mountain had been selected and work had began at pace. Kili and Gimli had followed the noise and perched themselves happily on a large boulder high above the partially constructed amphitheatre to watch the rapid progress.

“I didn't exactly let him." Kili flushed a little, “And it was an accident. These things happen when you spar.”

“I wish I'd been there to watch Fili beat him.” Gimli grinned. “And I would have stepped in to help you, of course.”

“We could have had matching strapping.” Kili smiled at Gimli's offended face. He shrugged. “But maybe we could have taken him, if we'd worked together. Fee was magnificent though.”

“I hope he gets drawn for the tourney. He'd be certain to win. Adad says he won't and I'm not to waste my coin, but I'm still going to bet on him.”

Kili watched the builders roll another huge boulder across the cleared ground, their shouts drifting up as they levered it carefully over the edge.

Gloin is probably right, he thought as they listened to the crashing of the boulder as it made it's way toward the valley floor. Kili felt like a traitor but he secretly hoped Fili would miss out on the draw. Then they could watch together, and crucially Fili wouldn't get hurt.

His brother had managed to make it home for dinner twice since Kili had been injured. And once he'd even been able to stay home rather than rushing out again to his duties. Kili wasn’t sure how Fili had managed to escape and didn’t like to ask, it made him feel guilty and happy at the same time.

Amad had been out late that evening and Kili had insisted Fili relax while he made them a simple dinner, everything taking infuriatingly longer than it should with only one properly working hand. He'd prattled happily about this and that as he worked, before finally realising that Fili had curled up and fallen fast asleep in the armchair in front of the fire.

He had felt terrible as he'd gently shook Fili awake and whispered to him that dinner was ready. His brother had been full of sleepy apologies, stretching and taking his place at the table. Insisting on helping to clear the dishes after.

They'd been curled up cosily in bed well before Amad returned home. Between jaw-cracking yawns Fili had told him about a day spent sitting quietly by Thorin's side whilst the dwarf lords had steadily drank and spoke sadly of their lost strongholds. Songs had been sung and Fili had been sent away again and again for more ale as Thorin had led the circular discussions repeatedly back to Erebor.

Kili nodded against Fili's chest as he listened. They'd grown up on their uncle's tales of the mountain, their ancestral home. “I should have liked to have been there and heard the stories,” he whispered.

“You've heard them all a hundred times already. At least.”

Kili had heard the smile in Fili's voice and smiled to himself as his brother's fingers gently combed through his hair. He knew neither of them would ever tire of listening to Thorin describe the splendour of their lost kingdom.

When they had been little dwarflings saving Erebor from the dragon had been their very favourite game, racing through the alleyways and squares of the settlement.

It usually ended in tears, Kili remembered with a smile. Depending on who'd finished up as the dragon.

“Do you recall when we used to play at saving Erebor?” he asked his cousin.

“Aye. I remember you two would have ganged up on me, and me being the youngest and all. Looking back now I'm pretty sure the game was rigged.” Gimli looked at him curiously. “What's put that in your head?”

Kili shrugged as Gimli grinned.

“I think your Fili may be a bit too grown up for hiding under tables in the market now, cousin.”

“Or for jumping off the smithy roof.” Kili smiled as he remembered his and Gimli's shrieks of genuine terror. “I honestly thought the smith was going to murder all three of us for that.”

“I think we nearly gave him a funny turn, right enough.”

They both snickered happily, Gimli slapped Kili’s leg and stood.

“It’s nearly sunset, they'll be doing the draw soon. Race you to the yard?”

* * *

They were late and the training yard was already packed by the time they arrived. Kili stood on tiptoe by the side of the wide gate but couldn’t spot any familiar faces.

“Give me a boost.” He turned to Gimli by his side. “Quick.”

Hanging onto the stone with one hand and ignoring the grumbling drifting up from below his boots Kili spotted the distinctive figures of Dwalin and Molir over toward the far wall. He thought he saw a flash of golden hair before Gimli cursed and dropped him.

“I saw them, follow me.”

Reluctant to push his way through so many unfamiliar dwarves Kili told Gimli to stay close as they slowly edged around the thick stone walls. As they drew near Kili saw Fili raising himself up on Dwalin and Molir’s shoulders in an attempt to look over the crowd, obviously searching for them.

Kili lifted a hand, shouting over the noise and waving until Fili spotted him and smiled warmly, his brother dropping out of view for a few moments before reappearing as he shouldered his way through the mass of dwarves between them.

Embracing them both and shouting that they were late Fili towed them back to the others just as a deafening cheer rose across the yard. The sound of hundreds of stamping boots echoed off the walls around them.

Standing in front of Molir and Dwalin and trying his best not to jump too heavily on their toes Kili cheered along loudly with the others as his uncle entered the yard followed by the dwarf lords and finally their amad, dressed again in her finery. The crowd parted before the procession as they made their way across the yard and climbed a set of stone steps on the outer wall to take their places strung along the high platform.

An urn stood on a small table to the left hand of each dwarf lord. Kili knew that his brother's name was written upon a folded piece of parchment in the one Thorin stood beside and he closed his eyes in a quick, silent prayer. Stealing a look at Fili's excited face after he finished Kili felt a sting of guilt and quickly sent another prayer, retracting the first one.

After the tourney had initially been announced Thorin had told his people that he would permit entry to all who were willing to put their name forward. But he had then followed quickly with a further announcement where he set a lower age limit, which just so happened to coincide with Fili's age. He also ruled that the dwarf lords themselves would not take part.

Kili understood why but still thought it a shame. He loved watching his uncle spar, but it would hardly be sporting for Thorin to stage a tournament and then best all comers.

His weakened hand was hurting a little already from the clapping. Kili frowned at it and swore again that the moment he was healed he would start training, hard and properly.

Next time there is a tourney, he promised himself, my name will be beside Fili’s.

Thorin raised his hands and the yard fell slowly silent, Kili could feel the anticipation rising as his amad made her way to the Stonefoots urn. Her clear voice carried across the crowd as she counted out seven pieces of parchment, unfolding each one in turn and reading out the names, waiting patiently as each lucky dwarf was cheered by their companions.

Kili carried on clapping politely with everyone else as she worked her way slowly along the row. Behind him Dwalin and Molir seemed familiar with a lot of the dwarves chosen. As each name was called they would mutter between themselves, occasionally pointing someone out to Fili.

“Stay away from him if you can, lad. He's a brute.”

“Vadril Stonehelm? Surely not. I thought he was long dead.”

“Blind in his left eye, but don't underestimate him.”

Kili stood on tiptoe and stained his neck, peering around the crowd to try and identify who everyone was, ignoring Gimli grumbles beside him about not being able to see.

Dain's company cheered loudly as their seven names were called. Kili shared a glance with Fili as the warrior raised his fists in the air, his kin surrounding him, roaring his name.

Fraeg, Kili thought, so that's who you are.

He twisted up to look at Molir and Dwalin to see if they had anything to say but Balin had joined them and they were laughing with him and no longer paying attention.

With another quick glance around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard, Kili spoke quietly into Gimli's ear, “That's him.”

Gimli stood up on his toes, leaning hard on Kili’s shoulder as he swore and tried to see over the crowd. “That one? Kili. You're a bigger fool than I thought.”

Kili glared at him.

Finally it was Thorin’s turn. Kili moved so that he stood shoulder to shoulder with Fili as they watched their amad draw the names.

Dwalin was called first, followed by Balin and then Molir. Kili was sure he saw his amad roll her eyes as the three celebrated each name loudly.

“Adad?” Gimli turned to them with eyes wide as the next name was called.

“Gloin is a great fighter.” Dwalin slapped Gimli's shoulder. “A bit out of practice that's true, but he'll be fine. We'll put him through his paces over the next few days. So don’t you worry, lad.”

He turned to the others. “Although I don't know what you're laughing at, Molir. When's the last time you swung an axe? And you’re not much better, brother.”

“It's hard to fight in a tourney if you're dead,” Gimli muttered to Kili and Fili as Molir and Balin protested loudly. “Amad's going to murder him.”

Kili recognised the next name as one of the stallholders from the market, Bombur. He nodded with Fili and Gimli in approval as they cheered. They liked Bombur. He made the best sweet pastries in Kili's opinion, and he was always generous with any burnt bits and scraps.

The sixth name was an unknown.

“Nori?” he asked Fili.

Fili nodded. “Ori's big brother. Come on, don’t look so confused. You know Ori surely? Quiet lad, really clever. I'll point him out to you.” He looked around the crowd, freezing in place as the last name was called.

Then it was all clapping shoulders and roaring. Kili laughed as Molir knocked his aside to sweep Fili up in a hug that lifted Fili’s boots from the ground.

“Your first tourney, lad!” he shouted, dumping a shocked looking Fili back onto his feet only for him to be immediately grabbed and swung high into the air by Dwalin.

Kili looked up toward his amad with concern, she was smiling and clapping along with everyone else but he could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was far from happy. They'd talked about the tourney and she'd confessed to him one night after dinner whilst Fili was out that she didn't want either of them anywhere near it.

“I don't doubt your brother's skill,” she had said as Kili crouched by the hearth to build up the fire, “or yours, my brave boy. But Thorin may as well paint a target on your backs and be done with it.”

Kili suspected his amad might have had something to do with Thorin's age limit cut off.

Fili had nodded when Kili told him and seemed unperturbed.

“We're Thorin's heirs, little brother, declared and acknowledged.” He’d smiled at the expression on Kili’s face and shrugged. “There will always be a target on our backs now.”

Then Kili had his run in with Fraeg and he understood a little better.

Their amad had demanded to know what had happened and he and Fili had stumbled together over their lies. They had been sparring, Fili had been a little over enthusiastic. A silly accident, no-one else involved.

She had been disappointed in them. Kili flushed a little as he remembered.

He looked at his brother, back on his own feet and smiling, although Kili thought he looked a little pale.

I'd be nervous too, he thought as he reached out with his good hand and pulled Fili into a hug.

“Congratulations, Fee,” he said into his brother's ear as Fili wrapped his arms around him tightly, squeezing the air from his lungs. “I'll be cheering you on."


	6. They don't hurt one of ours and get away with it

Kili scraped the remains of the porridge into a bowl and set it to one side. They could add it to the stew later. He dumped the pot into the sink to soak.

“Finish that up.”

He shook his head as he scrubbed down the worktop, jumping a little when Amad placed her palm across his forehead, her eyes full of concern.

“You're not eating, are you unwell?”

“I am, I did. I had a big bowl. That's plenty. I'm full, I promise.”

That wasn’t quite true. But after Fili had told him about the staggering costs for their celebrations Kili had been determined to find a way that he could help. Perhaps not taking a second bowl like he normally would, or holding back on slathering perfectly fine food with jam wouldn't sort out his family's debts overnight, but Kili reckoned every little bit had to help.

Dwarves are hardy creatures, he'd tell himself, feeling proud to echo his Uncle Thorin as he turned down second helpings and ignored his growling belly. He'd get used to it.

It made him feel useful, to contribute in some small way, even if no-one else realised.

Amad eyed him suspiciously.

Kili cast about for something to distract her with. “Can I ask you something?”

She nodded, sitting and pulling him down to the bench beside her. Taking his injured hand in hers she started to remove off the strapping, tutting to herself.

“Did you ask Uncle Thorin to lower the age for the tourney so I could enter?”

“No." Amad was poking at his fingers now, not gently.

Kili did his best to not to pull his hand away. It hurt. Although not as much as his own amad thinking he’s wasn’t capable of representing their family.

He tried to keep the whine from his voice. “Why? Do you think I'm weak?”

“Weak?” She stopped her ministrations and looked sharply at him. “No. Of course not. I told your uncle to increase the age so neither of you could enter.”

He hasn't expected that. Kili was horrified.

“But I could only get one of you. Thorin would have had you both in that arena given half a chance. He was planning some sort of archery element, which wouldn't have looked like a fix at all. I told him over my dead body. It's bad enough that I'm going to have to watch your brother, I couldn't have borne it if he had made me watch you as well.”

She lifted the fresh bindings and began to strap his fingers again. “I will need you beside me, holding tightly to my hand. I don't care if you're grown. Do you understand me?”

Kili nodded.

“Good boy." She smiled at him. “My turn for a question. Who did this to you? The truth, mind.”

“Fili.” He squirmed a little. “It was an accident.”

Amad frowned as she finished with his hand. “There, all tightened up. Is it still sore?”

Kili shrugged. “A little, not as much as it was. Unless I knock it, then it's really painful.” He smiled at her.

“Well. I’m pleased that you can at least be honest with me from time to time anyway.”

He stared after her open-mouthed as she made her way to the door and began to pull on her boots. “I’ll need you to go to the market for me, I won’t have time today. There’s coin and a list in the drawer.”

She stopped halfway out the door and looked at him, her eyes glittering in the morning light. “Whenever I find out who did this to you, and I will, they'll be looking at a lot more than a few broken fingers. And I don't appreciate being lied to. Not by you, nor by your brother. You can tell him that.”

* * *

They were a little early, Kili realised as they approached the training yard. As the gates swung open he caught Gimli’s arm and dragged him back a little.

“Kili, what the-?” Gimli protested as Kili grabbed his other sleeve and hauled him back into a narrow alleyway. “Adad and Fili are right there, by the gate. What are you doing?”

Kili shook his head urgently and clapped a hand over Gimli’s mouth as he pulled them back further into the shadows. As they stood quietly, Kili barely daring to breathe, the tourney team from the Iron Hills strode past their hiding place.

Once their loud voices had faded Kili cautiously released Gimli and crept forward, peeping into the main street and looking both ways. He breathed a small sigh of relief, thankful that they hadn’t arrived a few moments earlier.

He wasn’t frightened, he told himself, of course he wasn't. Just a little embarrassed.

Gimli was looking at him oddly.

“I'm not scared of them.” Kili drew himself up to his full height. “Don't look at me like that.”

* * *

“I need our three fastest runners. Line up. Across the yard and back, twice should do it. It'll get you warmed up too.”

Molir looked up from adjusting his vambrace. “Who made you in charge, Dwalin?”

“No time for that, we've got until the sun goes down and then the Stonefoots have their practice. Line up and be silent.”

Kili and Gimli exchanged grins as Molir joined the others, grumbling.

“Fili will win.”

“Of course he will." Kili smiled as he watched Fili bounce on his toes. He turned to Gimli. “But by how much?”

“What are you two doing sitting over there gossiping?” shouted Dwalin, waving at them. “Come on, get lined up. This isn't a spectator sport.”

“Then why aren't you in the line?” Gloin asked Dwalin as Molir nodded in agreement.

“Because I know how fast I am, but I don't know how slow you lot are. Stop arguing with me and get ready. Balin, you can stand with me. Kili, Gimli, in either side of Fili. Give him some competition. The rest of you...” Dwalin sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just, do your best. Ready? On my mark.”

“Now hold on just a moment.” Gloin pointed at Balin. “Why’s he not running?”

Fili grinned at Kili as he lined up by his shoulder. “It's going to be really embarrassing if I get beaten by Gloin or someone.”

“Just try and keep up with me and Gimli.” Kili laughed as Dwalin ignored Gloin and counted them down.

* * *

The three of them were the fastest by several strides, almost in step as they touched the far wall and turned. As they reached a yelling Dwalin and Balin and touched the ground to turn again Kili heard Gimli start cursing.

He saved his own breath and with Fili silent beside him they pulled away from their shorter-legged cousin. On the final turn Kili could see how far ahead they were, Molir raising a hand to them in acknowledgement as they passed him and Gloin at the back of the group.

Kili lowered his head and pumped his legs as hard as he could but it was no good. Despite his best efforts Fili was no longer at his shoulder but steadily pulling ahead, beating him over the line by a full stride.

They skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust and spun to watch the others.

“I think we're officially in trouble." Dwalin sighed heavily as they all got their breath back.

“I think I've pulled something,” muttered Molir, his hands on his knees.

“Fili, Nori and Bombur, you're the fastest I have. Mahal help me. So you're my runners.” Dwalin drew a large circle in the dust. “Now pay attention, all of you.”

“I don't understand what's wrong with a good old fashioned melee,” Gloin spoke to the group as they watched Dwalin busily add dots and lines. “Last dwarf standing wins.”

“You know where you are with a melee,” agreed Molir. “None of this running about chasing scraps of cloth, or whatever it is we have to do.”

“Sounds elvish to me,” said Gloin. “Whose idea was this anyway? Dain’s, I warrant.”

Dwalin glared them both into silence. “We'll all be spaced around the arena, the flags will be in the middle. Lads.” He indicated the three runners. “Your job is to try and get a hold of one of the flags and run like there's a pack of wargs on your heels for our basket.”

“Where's the basket?” Nori asked.

“We'll find out on the day. Thorin will draw for our spaces around the arena and whose basket is who's. Keeps it fair, apparently. So everyone remember to pay attention.”

He pointed to Gloin and Molir. “You two are in charge of protecting our runners. Once they have a flag you need to keep the route to our basket clear. Remember, no excessive violence.”

Kili studied the diagram and tried to imagine what the arena would look like as the others argued about what classed as non-excessive violence.

“What do you need to me do, brother?” asked Balin.

“Well, we are going to support our lads of course. But mainly we’re going to flatten any of Dain’s lot who manage to get a hold of a flag. In a subtle way. That’s why you’re with me.”

Kili stared at Dwalin in growing horror.

“They don't hurt one of ours and get away with it.”

“What’s that now?” Gloin asked, looking sharply at Gimli. “Dwalin?”

Kili shook his head slightly, desperately trying to communicate with Dwalin without drawing attention to himself. He didn’t dare make eye contact with Fili. Beside Dwalin Gimli had taken a sudden interest in his boots and was slowly turning as red as his hair. Kili was sure his own face wasn't much better. 

Dwalin pointed a finger around the group. “This stays within these walls, you all hear me?”

“Did one of them do that to you, lad?” Balin nodded at his fingers as Kili tried to subtly slide his hand behind his back.

“Fraeg,” Molir said.

Kili whipped his head around to look at him.

“I overheard a bit of talk in the alehouse and did a bit of digging about.” Molir turned to wag a finger at Fili. “Heard something about you and all.”

“Me?” Fili was all innocence.

“Yes, you. I think you've got their attention.” Molir nodded at Dwalin, suddenly serious. “Fraeg will be thinking like you, I expect.”

“Of course. And that’s where you and Gloin come in. I considered putting him on guard duty with you, keep him out of the way, but he’s the fastest we have by a mile.” Dwalin slapped Fili on the shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt, but I also want to win. So keep your wits about you. They won’t tackle you unless you have a flag. Probably.”

“Does Uncle Thorin know?” Fili asked the question that was on the tip of Kili’s tongue.

Dwalin laughed. “Of course he doesn’t. Fraeg would be a head shorter if he did. And he won’t know, we don’t want to start a war.” He looked around the group sternly. “No. We’ll sort this ourselves. Quietly. And with stealth and subtlety, which I understand is a big ask for you lot.”

Gloin harrumphed, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but - “

“Thorin cannot find out.” Dwalin looked them all in the eye. “Dis absolutely cannot find out.”

Everyone looked at Molir. He held his hands up.

“I haven’t told her yet, have I? She’s already accused me of lying to her, and that was a very unpleasant conversation.” He pointed between Fili and Kili, grinning. “So you two had better hold your nerve, because I’ll be a head shorter if she finds out. If I’m lucky, and she’s feeling merciful.”

Kili glanced at Fili and they both nodded.

Molir smiled around the group. “But I do feel a lot better now everyone knows. It brings me comfort to know that if I go down you’re all coming with me. I’ll sleep like a babe tonight."

“Quiet you. We’ll knock them down a peg or two and no-one but them and us will be any the wiser." Dwalin clapped his hands and scuffed a boot across his diagram, obliterating it. “Enough talk. Practise time.”

* * *

Kili felt a bit sorry for himself as he was relegated to the sidelines.

“This will be too rough for you, lad." Dwalin had explained in a low voice. “I don’t want someone hitting that hand of yours accidentally. You be marshall for me.”

So Kili was feeling a little put out as he scuffed a toe in the dust and watched Fili, Nori and Bombur attempt to dodge around the others. It looked like fun.

“No heavy tackling,” Dwalin yelled as Gimli flung himself at Fili and missed, landing hard in the dirt with a laugh.

Fili spun and kicked a shower of dust in Gimli’s face before racing off.

“What did I tell you lot? I don’t want any injuries before the day.” Dwalin whistled sharply. “Kili, will you pay attention and stop sulking.”


	7. That’s for my brother

“It is good to spend some time with you, cousin.” Thorin smiled as he raised his tankard. “It has been far too long.”

Dain smiled in agreement and touched his drink to Thorin’s. “It has indeed. Far too many years, and it will be a crying shame to leave after the tourney but I have been away too long already. Durin only knows what they will have been up to in my absence. I can only hope the wife hasn’t declared me dead, herself regent and changed the locks.”

They laughed heartily.

“In all seriousness though, I should probably send a raven once I'm a little closer to home.” Dain grimaced. “Anything is possible. But it has done my heart good though to see you and Dis, and the boys. Fili is a credit to you, and Kili of course. Two bright and happy lads. You have carved yourself out a good life here.”

Thorin nodded. That was good to hear but he needed to ask. “You understand why I chose Dis’s boys, there is no bad feeling?”

“Of course not.” Dain grinned. “Do not concern yourself. The Iron Hills are more than enough for me and mine. Believe me, I have no designs on either your crown or on your home here.”

“This will not always be my home.” Thorin took a long drink. “I will be closer to you one day soon, I promise you. The wealth of Erebor will...”

Dain rolled his eyes.

“You should have more faith in me.”

“I don’t doubt your ambition for a moment.” Dain held up a hand as Thorin opened his mouth. “Let's not quarrel now though. You said earlier you had a favour to ask?”

Thorin nodded as he refilled Dain’s tankard. “I do. Fili has been training hard these last months and I feel that he is ready for a little more responsibility. I would like him to broker a trade deal on my behalf.”

“He seems like a sensible lad, but I don’t see where I come in?”

“I am to meet the merchant in Bree. He has traded with us before, some years back, so I trust him not to take advantage of Fili’s youth when he arrives in my stead. He would not dare to cross me. I will not tell Fili that of course, so as far as he is concerned the deal is his alone. That will give him confidence and he will have an opportunity to practise his newly learnt skills, without the risk of losing me any coin.”

They smiled at each other.

Dain nodded. “Very practical.”

“It will also give him the opportunity to travel independently outside our borders. He has never crossed the Lune and it is past time he did. I would like him and his brother to journey with you as far as Bree. They can then make their own way home.”

“Ah, so I am on guard duty. I’m assuming he will be carrying coin?”

“The downpayment for the merchant, I do not expect there to be any risk on the Great East Road but better safe than sorry. Knowing that they will be with you as far as Bree will also settle their amad.”

“And how does Dis feel about your plan?”

Thorin sighed. “That I am putting too much pressure on the lad, that it’s too soon and he’s too young and I’m asking too much of him.”

“Ah.”

“She would keep them both wrapped in swaddling clothes until they are a hundred if she could. I understand her concerns, but she does neither of them any favours.”

Dain tutted. “My wife is the same. I remind her that by my Thorin’s age I was a lord in my own right, making decisions on behalf of my people, but it makes no difference.”

“As was I, but Dis will not hear of it. She is still furious that Fili is in the tourney. You should have seen the look she gave me when she drew his name, as if she thought I had any influence over what name she pulled out. She was determined to deny him the opportunity to prove himself in front of his kin.” Thorin smiled. “I had to strike a deal with her by setting an age limit to stop Kili entering. Although with hindsight that was not necessary since the lad has managed to injure himself.”

“Will he be well in time to travel to Bree? I know the road is not dangerous but still.”

“Oin is certain that it will be healed enough, and it doesn’t stop him wielding a sword. His bow he will have to leave behind, which is a shame for your supplies, he’s shaping up to be a great little hunter.”

“So Dis told me.” Dain smiled and nodded. “Very well, I will keep them safe for you.”

* * *

The blood was pounding so hard in his ears he didn’t even hear Thorin call out his name, which probably wasn’t a good sign. Behind him Molir gave him a little shove and nodded towards the marshal when he turned. Fili followed the pointing finger to his place by the arena wall, smiling back at Dwalin and Bombur as he passed them along the way.

Safely in his place Fili bounced on his toes a little as he looked across the tourney ground and waited for the remaining names to be called. It was a strange feeling, to be completely unarmed. Without even so much as a knife in his boot. He didn’t like it. Nori gave him a nod and a smile as he walked past to his position further along the curving wall.

Dust swirled past the eight flags staked out in a circle in the very centre of the arena. The long strips of cloth, dyed Durin blue, fluttered in the breeze and beyond them on the far wall a rope basket hung, one of seven spaced around the arena walls.

Fili nodded to Molir as he passed. He shook out his shoulders, huffing out a breath and tried to force himself to relax. Thorin was still shouting names, the marshals directing the remaining dwarves to their places. The arena echoed with cheers from the spectators as each name was called. The atmosphere festive.

He glanced surreptitiously up at the dwarves to his immediate left and right. Both taller than him and a lot broader. The one on his left, Fili thought he might be one of the Blacklocks, caught him looking and smiled kindly at him, mouthing a ‘good luck’. Fili smiled back, feeling a little worried as his eyes drifted around the arena. It felt a little like everyone was taller and broader, not to mention older and more experienced.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself, squinting a little against the already bright sun as he searched for Kili in the cheering crowd. When he’d hugged goodbye to them at the entrance to the arena and given them the last of his weapons they had promised that they would find seats on the north side of the arena, nearest the shade of the mountain wall, almost directly opposite his position.

Fili wasn't sure why amad didn't want to sit with the other dwarf lords and didn't like to ask. She hadn’t been overly cheerful at breakfast.

Kili had grumbled at him good-humouredly by the arena gates as he had tucked knives into his belt.

“Honestly, we are barely a mile from the settlement, you’re surrounded by your kin. Why do you need so many?”

Fili had tugged the last knife from his boot and flipped it end over end. “How many do you have?”

“What? Right now? Half an armoury at least I reckon.”

“And how many before?”

Kili was busy, apparently tucking the knife into his boot was giving him some trouble. He mumbled something which Fili assumed was an admission that he had, in fact, left home without so much as a throwing knife on him.

“That’s why I carry so many.”

He couldn’t see them.

He had been sure they would be in the front row.

The cheers had quietened and Fili tore his eyes away from the crowd as Thorin walked out toward the centre of the arena, holding his hands up for silence. Dain following behind with a small urn under his arm and a huge grin on his face.

This must be the draw for the baskets, Fili thought as he swept his eyes over the crowd again desperately. Where were they?

A light touch on his elbow. “You’ll want to pay attention to this bit, lad.” The dwarf on his left jerked his head toward Thorin.

Fili felt his face warm as he muttered his thanks. He focused again on his uncle as the baskets were drawn and pointed out. Theirs was the last to be called, beside the basket for Dain’s folk, side by side on the northside of the arena.

Fili glanced along the arena wall to Dwalin. He didn’t look happy.

Thorin raised his voice to wish them all good fortune, gave them a reminder that any use of excessive force or overly violent behaviour would incur a penalty, and left the arena floor with Dain.

The arena fell quiet as Thorin and Dain returned to the entrance and climbed the wide stone steps that led to the stands. All eyes watching as they made their way toward the other dwarf lords.

Fili readied himself, feeling his heart pound a little harder again as he focused on the flags and Thorin began to count them down.

With a roar the game began.

* * *

Kili raced down the shallow steps of the stand and elbowed his way toward the front, uncaring who he pushed past, treading on toes and spilling at least one dwarf’s ale.

Amad was behind him somewhere, they’d struggled to get through the crowd as she’d had to stop every few steps and speak to someone as if they were on an evening stroll and had all the time in the world. Then all of a sudden the crowd had leapt to their feet as one with a deafening roar and Kili knew they were late.

The dwarves in front were being uncooperative. With a bit of effort Kili got his hands between them and over the handrail. He squeezed his way through, ignoring the swearing around him, and was just in time to see Fili grab one of the flags in the centre of the arena, tuck it into his belt and run toward them, dodging around a dwarf trying to grab at the strip of fabric.

A ruckas behind and the press of the crowd around him eased slightly.

“Run, Fili!”

A hand grabbed onto his, crushing his fingers, thankfully the ones belonging to his good hand, against the stone railing. His amad roared again, a little close to his ear.

It looked like Fili was attempting to head their direction, Kili peeped over the railing toward the arena floor far below. A rope basket was suspended halfway down the wall. He quickly glanced around at the others spaced around the arena. He could see Dwalin and Balin making their way toward a nearby basket, running backward, as most of the dwarves scrambled around the centre where the flags were.

He focused back on Fili again. His brother leaping over a clumsy tackle and then he was by the wall, jumping up and throwing the flag into the basket.

Kili thought he and amad might have deafened the dwarves around them, their voices loud enough that Fili was able to hear them above the roar of the crowd. His face split into a relieved grin as he looked up.

Kili leant over the railing and reached down as far as he could as Fili leapt up. Their fingers touching for the briefest of moments before amad dragged him back by the belt. With a final happy grin Fili turned and ran back toward the centre, a bounce in his step.

“Well, I think he’s enjoying himself.”

Amad didn’t answer, chewing furiously on her lip.

* * *

The flags were all gone, Fili realised, as he jogged back toward the centre. He looked around quickly as he tried to decide what to do, guessing that some of them were buried in the piles of dwarves scattered around the arena. Nori was crawling his way out of the nearest one. He stumbled to his feet, laughing, and ran over to Fili.

“This is complete madness, it's-"

“What do you two think you are doing?” yelled Dwalin above the roar of the crowd.

They watched as he tackled one of the Iron Hills dwarves heavily, Fili winced as the two of them hit the ground, Dwalin trying to tear a flag from the other's belt.

“Fili!”

He spun and followed Molir's pointing finger. One of the Broadbeam dwarves with a strip of blue cloth hanging from his belt was racing toward the western wall of the arena.

“You get him,” said Nori. “I'll get Dwalin's one.”

They raced off. Fili wasn't the only one chasing the Broadbeam dwarf but he was the first to close the distance, flinging himself forward and catching the dwarf around the waist.

As they hit the ground together hard Fili snatched at the flag, the elbow jab aimed for his nose hitting off his shoulder instead as he twisted away. They rolled together, the dwarf cursing and grabbing at his ankle as Fili made an attempt to get to his feet. Fili tried to shake him off and wished someone had explained what excessive force actually looked like.

The second dwarf hit him side on at speed and they tumbled together to the ground in a tangle of fists and feet. Fili curled into a ball around the flag kicking out hard while he tried to think of another tactic. Another weight landed on top of them and he heard someone give a groan of pain. He didn’t think it was him but he wasn’t entirely sure. He felt like his ribs were creaking.

Suddenly the weight released and he was free, Molir and Gloin shouting his name. Fili crawled out and staggered to his feet with a laugh. Someone shoved him and yelled for him to go.

It felt like every dwarf in the arena was trying to get in his way as he ran at full tilt for the basket, ducking and dodging under outstretched arms and leaping over tackles.

Somehow over the roar of the crowd as he feinted and span around another combatant Fili heard Dwalin shout a warning. No time to register which direction the threat was coming from before Fraeg hit him from behind like the very wall of the arena.

They fell together, Fili’s head bouncing hard off the stone, helped along by the big hand wound tight in his hair. He coughed dust, unable to do anything but lie a little stunned as Fraeg flipped him onto his back, pinning him in place with a huge knee on his chest and a hand about his throat. Fraeg tore the flag from his belt with a grin and held it aloft triumphantly.

Then he disappeared, wrenching Fili sideways with him for a few yards until Molir dragged him away across the arena floor in a roaring cloud of dust. Fili watched them wrestle for a moment before he remembered where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He touched his face and his fingers came away bloody.

There were heavy footsteps nearby. Fili forced himself upright and grabbed the flag that Fraeg had dropped as an arm wrapped around his waist and lifted him from his feet, slamming him back to the arena floor. As he kicked out and rolled away he got a glimpse of the dwarf who had held Kili after his beating from Fraeg. Fili rolled again as the dwarf grabbed at him and made it almost back to his feet before a knee caught him hard in the stomach, driving the breath from him.

Then they were both scuffling on the arena floor, Fili had no idea where the flag was and found he didn’t care as he managed to land a heavy punch and just about dodged the returning one. As the other dwarf pinned his right arm to the ground and raised his fist Fili brought his knee up as hard as he could. A dirty move but he figured it was justified under the circumstances. Clawing his way out from under the groaning dwarf he wobbled to his feet and cast about for the flag, kicking back hard as a hand wrapped around his leg. Turning he buried his boot in the dwarf’s ribs.

“That’s for my brother.”

The marshals were whistling. Fili looked around, a little confused as one of them pointed sternly at him and jabbed a finger toward the arena gates. Three marshals were pulling Fraeg and Molir apart and pointing them in the same direction.

“Go on!” The marshal pointed again toward the gate as he approached them. “You’re off.”

“Are you all right?” he said to the dwarf at Fili’s feet.

Seemingly feeling much better the dwarf rolled to his feet and nodded, running back toward the others with a grin and a quick signed gesture at Fili behind the marshal’s back.

“That’s not fair!” Fili protested, wondering if he could sign a response and not get spotted. He decided against it.

“The longer it takes you to get over there, the longer you have to stay there. Go on. Get on with you.”


	8. The alehouse

“Tilt your head back a bit for me, there’s a good lad.” Molir stared at him critically and pinched the bridge of his nose hard. Fili’s eyes watered. “I don’t think it’s broken, but you’ll have at least one blackened eye I reckon.”

“Soft,” snorted Fraeg.

Taking care not to move his head Fili glanced carefully across to Fraeg, the big dwarf leaning back against the arena wall. His sharp eyes on them. Fili smiled a little, it looked like Molir had managed to land a few punches.

Molir rolled his eyes. “Hardly soft. I saw what you did, Fraeg. Even if the marshals seemed to have all been afflicted with some sort of temporary blindness. You did well to get to your feet after that, Fili. It must have felt like half the mountain had landed on you.”

Fraeg laughed.

“But at least it was the squashy half, I suppose,” continued Molir, with a quick wink at Fili. “You’d have been a lot worse off it had been someone with a bit more solid muscle behind them. Your amad’s got a better right arm.”

“You-”

“Right, you three,” called the marshal, beckoning to them. “Thorin is content to let you all back on. See if you can behave yourselves this time.”

Fili licked his lips and tasted dust and blood. He glanced up past Molir’s shoulder toward his uncle’s seat.

“No sense worrying about that for now,” said Molir with a grin. He released Fili’s nose and nodded. “I think that’ll have to do. Try not to put your face in the way of anyone’s fist for a bit, would you?”

* * *

Kili cheered as Fili and Molir jogged back toward the others, Fraeg following a few steps behind. Even over the roar of the crowd Kili imagined that he could hear Amad grind her teeth and growl beside him. He could definitely feel the bones grinding together in his hand as she tightened her grip.

When Fraer had put Fili to the ground Kili felt sure he was looking at more broken fingers. He’d howled in fury himself but had been drowned out by his amad’s rage. He hadn’t realised she’d known half the words she’d spat at Fraeg, some of them had been new even to him, and he’d certainly never heard anyone use them all together in quite the way she had. It had surprised Kili enough that he’d taken his eyes from Fili to stare at her in shock for a moment.

The dwarves behind and beside them had joined him in a brief stunned silence before beginning to cheer her on, offering some suggestions themselves. And they had all cheered together loudly when Molir slammed into Fraeg and freed Fili.

As Amad roared for Molir to rip Fraeg’s arms off Kili felt he understood why she had insisted they sit on the north side, far away from Thorin and the other dwarf lords. Well out of earshot and hopefully far enough out of his eyeline.

He had been leaning forward to try and catch a glimpse of his uncle’s face and missed the moment the second dwarf had attacked Fili, turning just in time to wrap his free arm about his amad’s waist and restrain her a little. He’d wanted to vault over the railing and drop into the arena himself, all his instincts screaming at him to run to his brother’s aid. Instead having to satisfy himself with joining the dwarves around them as they roared and waved for the marshals.

Their little section of the crowd hadn’t appreciated the marshal’s final decision, catcalling loudly as the marshal pointed Fili toward the gate. Kili joined them in shouting his disapproval, even distracted as he was with patting his amad and assuring her that Fili was absolutely fine.

He did think that perhaps his brother was limping a bit though, but only a bit. Fili certainly seemed willing enough as with a little skip and a nod at Molir he sped up, racing toward one of the two groups of wrestling dwarves as Molir charged for the other pile. Fraeg seemingly torn about which way to go before lumbering after Fili.

Kili glanced around the arena, the marshals beside each basket had chalked marks on the stone walls. Two marks for Thorin’s Halls, three for the Iron Hills and one for the Broadbeams. That meant two flags were still in play, likely buried somewhere in the heaps of struggling arms and legs. He’d lost track of them as he had watched, chewing at his lip, whilst Molir had tended to Fili.

Around them the crowd began to roar encouragement and suddenly Bombur was free and running, Fili flanking him. Kili could see Fili shouting something to Bombur. Some sort of yelled discussion before Bombur shook his head and shoved a flag at Fili. Pushing him forward Bombur turned and tackled the first dwarf chasing them, managing to also knock down a second and third as the unfortunate dwarves tried too late to dodge. Gloin and Dwalin raced in from the sides and flung themselves at the dwarves behind, tackling them to the ground heavily.

Some of the pack managed to make it around the dwarves tussling on the ground but it didn’t matter. Fili had taken full advantage of the headstart and was running flat out toward Kili and the basket. His head down and legs pumping, taking quick glances over his shoulder every few strides. Kili yelled a warning as loud as he could, watching anxiously as the Iron Hills dwarves raced to cut his brother off. He could see one of them cursing as he realised he was too slow, another lurking closer to the basket tackled and flung hard to the ground by Balin. Then Fili was below them and leaping, throwing the flag into the basket and landing with his arms in the air. Celebrating happily as the crowd around Kili stamped and roared back in approval. Kili glanced around him, pleased and proud that dwarves from all across Arda were cheering loudly for his brother.

Fili bowed low to the stands, grinned up at Kili as he straightened and turned with a final wave to jog back into the centre. He’d barely started running before all the marshals began whistling loudly. The dwarf beside Kili clapped him hard on the back and pointed, yelling in his ear that the last flag had been retrieved, by one of the Blacklocks, and the game was over.

* * *

“Look at the state of you.” Amad muttered angrily as she held the wet cloth to Fili’s face, wiping at the dried blood.

Kili watched his brother try not to wince. “Would you like me to do that, Amad?”

Fili glanced at him sideways. Kili was fairly certain that was a yes. Amad’s hands weren’t always the most gentle.

“I can manage. Durin knows I’ve cleaned enough bloody faces over the years. You go and fill the tub for your brother and then you can get the dinner started. I expect Thorin to call over later so make sure you allow for that, you know your uncle is always hungry. There’s no festivities planned for this evening so it’ll be nice for him to just be quiet and properly relax with us for a change.”

Fili paled a little. Kili got the impression that Fili would rather avoid Thorin for a little while longer.

“Dwalin invited us to the alehouse.” Fili tried to pull away as Amad wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to hold him steady. He sucked in a breath as she pressed the cloth against his nose and Kili winced in sympathy. “Amad, that hurts.”

She soaked and squeezed out the cloth, the water in the bowl swirling pink. “Stop squirming and hold still. The alehouses will be packed tonight, Fili.”

“Amad, please. Kili will come with me. Everyone will be there already and it’ll look very odd if we don’t go. We won’t get into any trouble, I promise, and Dwalin said we’ll eat there too.”

Kili watched hopefully as Amad thought it over. He crossed his fingers behind his back.

She turned to him. “Why are you still standing there, staring at me? Is there not a bath that needs filling? I expect you’ll be needing one too since you’re both heading out.”

* * *

They could hear how crowded the alehouse was before they were halfway down the street. The music from fiddle and drums mingling with the sound of many voices, rising and falling as the tavern door swung open and closed. The barkeep must have been anticipating a large crowd for it looked to Kili as if every single table and chair had been removed and was now neatly stacked outside the doors, partially blocking the wide street.

With a happy grin and an excited bounce in his step Fili pushed the heavy door carefully open and made his way in first, the dwarves nearest the door shuffling reluctantly further into the alehouse to make a little space. Kili’s eyes watered immediately from the clouds of pipesmoke, hanging like a fog over the many heads.

“Can you see them?” Fili turned and yelled in his ear, pulling him a little closer to let more dwarves push their way past.

Kili stood on tiptoe, leaning on Fili’s shoulder to give himself a little boost as he looked around the throng for any familiar faces. Through the legs of the musicians crowded together on top of the lone table in the centre of the floor he spotted Dwalin making his way toward the bar.

He turned to tell Fili but his brother was busy talking with, or being shouted at by, an older dwarf. The greybeard patting his arm and gesturing whilst Fili nodded and smiled. Kili turned back and watched Dwalin lift several tankards from the bar counter, nod to the barkeep, and carve his way slowly through the crowd toward a back corner near the fire before he disappeared from view.

They must have a table, he thought, however they’ve managed to wrangle it. Pity it wasn't a bit closer to the door. It’ll take us half the night to push our way through this lot.

“Do you see them, brother?” Fili was free again. He smiled broadly as Kili nodded. “Go on then, I'll follow you.”

As Kili had expected it was hard work making their way through the tightly packed crowd. The sticky floor tugged lightly at his boots, everyone smelling like tobacco and stale ale. Kili apologised as he slid and squeezed his way between dwarves, Fili holding on to his hand so they didn't get separated and pulling him to a halt every few steps.

It's worse than trying to get anywhere with Amad, Kili thought.

They had stopped again, this time beside the band's table. Kili waited patiently and watched the fiddle player’s nimble fingers dance over the strings, his own foot tapping in time with the lively tune. The melody was unknown to him and he hummed along, trying to commit it to memory, the fingers of his left hand moving over an imaginary fingerboard. Kili felt a sudden sharp longing for his own fiddle, neglected and gathering dust along with Fili's in the corner of their room. The musician noticed him watching and grinned, angling himself so Kili could see the fingerings a little better.

Fili nudged him on but before they had so much as taken a full step a burly dwarf stopped them. He pumped Fili's free hand hard and clasped his shoulder, leaning close to speak in Fili's ear. Kili couldn't make out the words but from the gestures it looked like Fili was being offered a drink again. His brother laughing and shaking his head as they were all jostled about by the crowd. Fili pointed toward the far side of the bar. Obviously trying to explain that it really wasn't necessary, that they were meeting friends.

This dwarf wouldn't take no for an answer though, beckoning Kili closer and taking a firm hold of his sleeve. Towing them both along in his wake toward the crowded bar and commanding them with a stern gesture to wait before he turned away and shoved his way through, raising a hand to the barkeep.

Kili widened his eyes at Fili, not wanting to sign just in case they were being watched. Fili shook his head and leaned in, his lips brushing Kili's ear.

“Absolutely no idea. A Stonefoot from his braids. He said his name but I completely missed it. Do I ask him again?”

The Stonefoot elbowed his way back toward them, two brimming tankards in hand. He handed them each one, clapped them both hard on the shoulder, patted Fili on the cheek and disappeared with a final grin and a wave back into the crowd.

“There you both are!” Dwalin bellowed close to Kili’s ear, making him jump. He frowned as some of his ale slopped over his fingers and down his clean tunic.

Fili took a large drink from his own tankard and nodded for Kili to do the same. “You’ll spill a lot less if it’s in your belly, brother.”

Kili grinned. That made sense. He coughed as Dwalin hit him between the shoulder blades midswallow.

“So I see you’ve sorted yourselves out.” Dwalin wrapped a hand around the back of Kili’s neck, giving him a little shake, and wagged a thick finger at both of them. “But that won’t get you out of standing your round though, just so we’re clear-”

Fili looked offended. “I would never-”

“-and you don’t count as one dwarf either so I hope you both thought to bring coin. Come on.”

* * *

There was no food, but the ale more than made up for it. Squeezed in between Fili and Nori with his back to the massive chimney breast Kili covered a sleepy yawn and wondered why the barkeep had thought a fire necessary on a warm summer's evening.

“I think I'm actually melting,” Nori shouted to the table. Kili nodded in agreement. “Or perhaps cooking. Was this really the only table?”

“Do you see any others?” Dwalin said. “One for the band and one for us. That’s it. You can all thank me and Molir that you’re sitting here all nice and comfortable and not squashed cheek by jowl out there with everyone else.”

A dwarf knocked back into Dwalin and Molir and lifted his hands in apology as they turned on their stools to look at him. Mollified, Dwalin turned back to the table and lifted his tankard. “Where was I? Yes, and I note that I haven’t heard as much as a word of thanks from any of you lot now that I come to think of it. If it hadn't been for us arriving first and helping set up the bar we wouldn't have had a table at all. This table-"

He thumped the table hard and the tankards rattled. Kili wondered how much Dwalin had had to drink.

“-was the result of hard negotiating and even harder work. So you can all start by being a bit more grateful rather than whining about feeling a little warm. You need to spend more hours in the forge, Nori. That’s what’s wrong with you. Can’t stand a little heat. You too, Kili. You're soft, both of you.”

“I am not-“ Nori was indignant.

“Hush. You don't see the lad putting up any argument, do you? He knows I’m right. When was the last time either of you put in any time? Like you’re meant to. Go on. Tell me when? Prove me wrong.”

“That's not fair, Dwalin.” Fili reached for another tankard and spilled a little over the table. He swiped the puddle of ale onto the floor with the flat of his hand and Kili tried to remember how many they’d had. More than three. Definitely more than three. “Kili's been injured.”

Dwalin snorted. “I'm not talking about the last few weeks.”

“We all have different skills,” said Nori with a grin. “Isn't that right, Kili? It would be a boring old world if we were all smiths. Mayhap I’ve no time for smithing, mayhap I pull my weight in other ways. Ways that are none of your business.”

Kili avoided Dwalin's eyes and buried his face in his tankard, taking another sip of his now slightly warm and flat ale. Dwarves did smithing, it was in the blood. Like wielding an axe and growing a beard. He touched his fingertips to his stubble and felt the blood rise in his face. Suddenly thankful that his cheeks were likely flushed already from the heat of the fire and the three, maybe four, ales that he had drank.

“Thorin will sort you out eventually, Nori, but in the meantime don't try and drag the boy down with you and your undwarvish notions. He's only a youngster, shirking is in their nature at that age.” Dwalin tapped the table hard in front of Kili. “Look at me. Good lad. You should take your example from your brother. He takes his turn like everyone else and likely your turn too if I know him at all, and he's not much older than you. You're getting away with it for now but you'll regret it if you don't buck your ideas up. I warrant Nori doesn't know one end of a hammer from another by this stage.”

Nori muttered something darkly and Dwalin glared at him.

“Anyway,” said Balin soothingly, patting his brother's arm, “I think we should be talking about our plans for the next stage rather than arguing about smithing and forges and who does what. We managed to get three flags, which was excellent teamwork. So who's going forward to represent us, eh?”

“Well, if we’re going to discuss tactics then I think we need more ale. Boys, your turn.” Molir jerked a thumb toward the bar as Fili pushed himself to his feet, a little unsteadily.

* * *

“Do you take my turn?” Kili tried to whisper in Fili's ear as they set some of the empty tankards on the bar.

Fili shushed him and stood on tiptoe to lean across the counter, trying to get the barkeep’s attention.

“Do you?” Kili suddenly felt a bit horrified. He'd assumed nobody minded or noticed that he was skipping some of his hours. It hadn't occurred to him that nobody had noticed because someone was covering up for him. “Fee?”

“I'm trying to order ale, brother.” Fili glanced at him and smiled. “It doesn't matter, I enjoy it and you don't.”

“But-"

“Hold on.” Fili nodded and held up seven fingers to the barkeep. He turned back to Kili with a grin. “There, done. Sorry. You help our amad. I do nothing around the house, simply nothing. Now, how much coin do you have with you? Empty those pockets, brother.”

* * *

“Honestly, Kili-"

Kili shifted his grip about Fili's waist, he wasn't entirely sure anymore who was holding who up.

“-I've already said it doesn't matter. Stop going on.”

They staggered a little and clutched at each other as they stumbled over yet another uneven cobblestone. There seemed to be a lot of uneven cobblestones that he’d never noticed before, Kili thought as they giggled and righted themselves.

Kili tried to remember what they had been talking about. Oh yes. Forges and shirking. “No, it does. It does matter. Fetching a few things for Amad isn't the same at all.”

Fili sounded stern. “I'm the eldest. It's supposed to be my job to look after her and after you.” He hiccoughed, which ruined his gravitas a little. “But you’ve always done it, cheerfully and without complaint. So I’d really appreciate it if you would let me help you, just a little bit.”

Kili wasn't sure any of that was right, but then his head didn't seem to be working properly. Fili missed a step and they hit the wall.

“Will you two straighten up please.” Molir stomped back along the street, bulling his way between them. “We'll not have you home by dawn at this rate. Kili, give me your arm. You too, Fili. Good lads, now come on.”

* * *

The light spilled out through the small window as they approached. They stopped outside the neighbour’s house and considered their options.

“Do you think she's still up?” Kili whispered.

Fili shook his head. “It's very late but we're pretty much sober now so I don’t think we need to worry. We only had two or three anyway. Hardly any at all.” He tried to pat Kili on the head and missed a little. “Are you coming in, Molir? I can make us some tea and toast. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it? I think there might even be some of that cheese left. Is there, Kili? Because I think cheese and toast would be really nice and I don’t know about you two but I’m absolutely starving.”

“I don't think so, Fili. I’d better-"

“Why are the three of you out here yelling at each other? Do you have any idea what time it is?” Amad hissed from the open doorway. She stepped out onto the street and pointed inside, looking furious. “Get in. Right now. And where do you think you're going, Molir? I said in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A crowded pub! With strangers! Can barely remember what that's like now. 
> 
> Hope you are enjoying the story, I'm having a lot of fun writing it. If you have any feedback I'd love to hear it.


	9. Erebor

The house was warm, and under the distinctive scent of his uncle’s pipesmoke Kili could smell something delicious. Something sweet and spiced and buttery. His eyes drifted to the range hopefully and he placed a hand on his belly to quiet its rumbles, suddenly realising how hungry he was. As he opened his mouth to ask Amad if perhaps there might be a little dinner left Kili was surprised to see Thorin relaxing in one of the chairs by the fire. He thought he saw his uncle smile but when he blinked it was gone and he couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn't imagined it.

“Boots.” Amad reminded them as she lightly pushed him further into the house and closed the door. She tutted. “Look at the state of them, Molir. How much did you let them have?”

“We're fine.” Fili leaned suddenly and heavily on him, trying to shuck his boots off and taking Kili by surprise. He wobbled badly and caught a hold of Molir for support.

“Kili, I was on one leg,” Molir muttered a curse as he righted them. “You nearly put me on my backside. Stand still.”

“Uncle Thorin's still here,” Fili whispered in Kili's ear, sounding worried, “and my boot's broken, I think.”

“He is.”

Kili jumped. Thorin had somehow crossed the room and stood in front of them, his lips twitching as if he were trying to hold back a smile. To Kili’s surprise his uncle dropped to one knee and lifted Fili's foot, tugging his boot off and lining it up neatly with the others.

“Lean on the wall instead of Kili,” Thorin said gently, “and give me your other foot.”

He’d gotten used to Fili’s weight and staggered a little when it was taken away from him. Fili grabbed his hand with a grin and Kili grinned back happily. His ears were ringing and everything seemed just a little blurry around the edges.

He remembered he was really hungry and opened his mouth to ask Fili if he was too.

“You two need to drink some water.” Amad separated their hands and pulled Fili away, leading him over to the fire and pushing him down into a chair. She lifted a hank of Fili’s hair and held it to her nose, looking at him suspiciously. Fili grinned back up at her.

“Kili, have you fallen asleep?” Thorin tapped his shoulder and smiled at him. “Boots, my little drunkard.”

Amad crossed the room, a frown on her face. She sniffed at Kili’s hair, then leaned it to sniff at his mouth. Kili stumbled back a bit and she followed him.

“Amad, what are-”

“Have you two been smoking? The truth.”

“No.” Kili willed himself not to blush. Just for once. He hadn’t really inhaled so technically it wasn’t actually smoking. He couldn’t speak for Fili though but then Amad didn’t seem to be asking Fili for some reason.

“Kili, I will count to-”

“Dis, Dis,” Molir took his life in his hands and caught a hold of hers. “They’re grown lads.”

Kili glared at Molir. He may not have been completely sober but even he knew that was the wrong response.

“So that’s the way of it, is it? They’re 'grown lads'.” It was quite a good mimicry of Molir’s deep tenor. Kili giggled despite himself and Amad shot him a look. “Grown lads, my eye. Who put them up to it? Was it you? It was, wasn’t it? What’s next on your agenda for my 'grown lads'? Are you going to-”

He missed whatever it was that his Amad thought might be next as Thorin wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him toward the fire. Spinning him around to face him Thorin said something Kili didn’t catch, patted his cheek and pushed him down into the chair next to Fili’s. Kili opened his mouth to say thank you but his uncle was already gone, padding away in his sock soles toward Molir and Amad. There was a lot of finger pointing going on and Molir was looking sheepish.

“Kili.” Fili leaned over the arm of his chair and stretched out a hand toward him. “I think I might be a little drunk after all. I didn’t know.”

He was too far away and Kili couldn’t hear him properly. It seemed a bit tricky to start moving chairs around so Kili pushed himself up and made his way across instead, settling himself on the arm of the chair. Fili wrapped an arm around his waist and settled back into the chair, smiling up at him happily.

“Did you have a good day, my big brother?”

Fili nodded and closed his eyes. Kili studied his brother’s bruised face and allowed himself a little moment of worry. Parts of the night were a little hazy but he definitely remembered that Fili was going forward into the final stages of the tourney. They had argued back and forth about who would go through to represent them. Dwalin was by far the obvious choice so he took one of the places but the other two spots caused an issue. At long last they had decided Fili would go through but he’d shook his head firmly and refused. Claiming that he was far from the best fighter and that it wasn’t fair.

They’d decided to draw for it in the end and Nori had produced a set of cards with a flourish.

Kili felt he might have drifted off a little, staring out across the alehouse as the others had settled into a protracted argument about which game they should play. He’d been idly wondering where the Iron Hills dwarves might be having their celebrations and was horrified when, as if his thoughts had summoned them, he glimpsed a familiar figure through the crowd.

He’d barely had enough time to kick Dwalin hard under the table and elbow Fili in the ribs before Fraeg dropped a hand onto Molir’s shoulder, leaning down to speak in his ear. Kili felt a chill down his spine as he locked eyes with the warrior, unable to look away.

Molir laughed and pushed himself to his feet, towering over Fraeg. Beside him, Kili felt Fili and Nori tense but Fraeg and Molir had seemed calm enough. Standing chest to chest, both of them smiling widely as they bellowed in each others ears. Their words lost in the noise of the crowd. Molir had laughed, throwing his head back, and then Fraeg had laughed too and then hands were shook and they were clapping hard at each other’s arms and shoulders, looking for all the world like the very best of friends.

Kili had looked to Fili but Fili didn’t make eye contact with him. Instead his brother had stared at Fraeg, a small frown on his face.

“You!” Fraeg had roared over the table, a huge grin on his face as he wagged a finger at Fili. “You’re a nasty little fighter, aren’t you? I’ll remember that. Now come here and shake my hand and we’ll call it even, Prince Fili. I think you’ll agree that we’ve all had our fun.”

Kili wasn’t sure if Fili was going to agree to shake Fraeg’s hand. He wasn’t sure himself if he would either, if he were asked. He had just decided that he would follow Fili’s lead, whatever that was, when Fili stood and thrust out a hand. Fraeg took it with a wide smile and Kili half leapt to his feet as Fili was yanked roughly forward across the table and into an embrace. Nori placed a steadying hand on his arm and pushed him back onto the bench, nodding at Dwalin who was already on his feet and at Fraeg’s shoulder as Fraeg spoke into Fili’s ear.

Then Fili was released and Fraeg was smiling at Dwalin, nodding to Molir and shouldering his way back through the crowd.

Fili dropped onto the bench beside him. “Rirlun,” he said in a whisper in Kili’s ear. “That’s the other ones name.”

To the table he said, “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to fight if you’ll still let me.”

“Me too,” said Molir. “Arrogant sods. I’d like another crack at that one with a weapon in my hand.” He’d grinned at the table. “Friendly like. Because we’re all friends now.”

Neither Fili or Molir had shared what Fraeg said to them.

They had sent Gloin to buy another round, to toast their three combatants. He’d taken Kili with him and Kili had watched curiously as the barkeep counted out a row of tiny glasses, filling each one to the brim. Gloin and the barkeep had smiled at him as Kili sniffed the clear liquid and looked between them questioningly.

“It’ll put hairs on your chest, lad,” Gloin had said. “Practically medicinal.”

Kili touched his chest as he remembered. The drink had smelled innocent enough and the others had tried to identify the herby scent as Gloin smiled around the table at them all indulgently. Kili had been suspicious though, he had licked his fingers where the drink had spilled a little on the way from the bar to the table and there was an uncomfortable burn in his throat.

He’d taken a sip of ale to soothe it as the table agreed to defer to Bombur’s superior herb knowledge and then, before Kili could warn Fili or any of them, Gloin had banged the table and told them all to drink on his mark. He’d looked Kili firmly in the eye and Kili had somehow found himself lifting his glass obediently, against his better judgement.

The table had gone silent for a long moment before the cursing started.

It had barely been a mouthful but Kili’s eyes had watered instantly. He’d managed to swallow it and he imagined that it felt exactly how liquid fire would feel as it burned its way slowly to his belly. He had been unable to breathe, panting for air whilst Fili coughed and cursed beside him. The others had looked to be in the same state. Apart from Nori who had laughed and wagged a finger at Gloin, having had the good sense to spit his out onto the floor. And Balin, who had seemed to have realised the danger and only taken a small sip, watching the rest of them with an amused smile on his face.

Kili realised that he couldn’t remember much of the night from that point on. They hadn’t seen the Iron Hills dwarves again though, at least he thought not. He stroked Fili’s hair, careful to be gentle and avoid the sore bits of his brother’s head. “What did he say to you?” he whispered.

Fili shook his head as Molir dropped heavily into the chair opposite.

Kili watched as Thorin dragged another chair from Amad’s room and then somehow he had a mug of ale in his hand. He looked at his uncle questioningly.

“I’m sure you can manage one more. Then it’ll be water for you and off to bed.” Thorin poked at the fire and settled back into his chair. He looked at Molir. “Care to explain what happened out there today, old friend?”

“I’d appreciate a bit less of the old if you don’t mind.” Molir nodded at Amad as he accepted a brimming mug. “As you well know, I’m a dwarf in my prime.”

“He was looking after our boy.”

“I was, Dis,” said Molir, taking a drink, “not that he really needed any help.”

Fili snorted and buried his head in his mug as Thorin looked at him.

“It would have been better if my heir and my captain weren’t amongst the few dwarves who couldn’t control themselves, but no matter.” Thorin smiled. “You have resolved whatever caused it I would imagine? There is no need for my involvement?”

Kili watched as Molir and Fili nodded enthusiastically.

“Good, then we can talk about more pleasant things.”

As they talked Kili realised that Thorin and Amad weren’t in a much better state than he, Fili and Molir. He had thought Amad’s cheeks rosy with temper but, as she and Thorin laughed merrily over a childhood memory and Thorin refilled the mugs, Kili realised that she and his uncle must have been drinking with their dinner. And quite heavily.

They had been left out of the refills but Kili didn’t mind. He nursed his ale and settled back further against the chair, listening contentedly as they talked, Fili quiet beside him. Lulled by the warmth of the fire and the soft voices he felt his eyes grow heavy.

Amad built the fire up again and the mugs were refilled, a new pitcher of ale set on the little carved table, within easy reach. Thorin and Molir busied themselves filling their pipes. Kili noticed Fili’s mug tipping a little and took it from his brother’s slack fingers, pouring the contents into his own and setting the empty one on the floor. Careful to keep his movements as small as possible to not attract attention to himself. He settled back against the chair, Fili’s head heavy against his side, and wrapped an arm around his brother.

There would be singing soon, Kili reckoned as he smoothed his fingers through Fili’s hair and sipped his ale. He hoped to escape notice until then at least. It had felt like forever since he’d heard his uncle sing. If he hadn’t been trying his best to stay quiet he would have bet with Fili on who might be the one to start it.

“-and I wasn’t the only one.” Molir was examining one of his heavy braids closely. “I’d say there was many a dwarf went grey or white a good while sooner than they’d ought to. It happens. I wasn’t much older than your Fili that day.”

“I can never thank you enough, I-”

“Don’t start that again.” Molir reached out with his mug and knocked it hard against Thorin’s, ale sloshed to the floor and Amad tutted. “It’s long done and can’t be changed now. Nor should it be.”

Thorin’s face was gloomy as he stared into the flames. He looked back at Dis. “Perhaps if-”

“No.” Molir smiled although there was no humour in his voice. “No. I could not have got Thror out, I would not have known to. And even if I had known to fetch him, he would not have listened to me.”

Kili barely dared breathe. He had heard about Erebor of course. The day of the dragon and the flight of the dwarves. Death and destruction.

But he had never been told the details.

“You would have stayed with our Amad and seen them all to safety. You would not have abandoned them to the beast.”

“Thorin,” Amad said sadly. “You mustn’t-”

“I should have stayed right by her side, taken her hand in mine and stayed with her until we were out. She promised me that she would lead them straight out or I never would-”

“Then in all likelihood I would have lost you too.” Amad reached out and took Thorin’s fingers in hers. “Whatever horrors befell them in their escape, that same horror would have taken you from me. And then Frerin and I would have been completely alone. Wherever would we have been without you, my brother? What would have become of us? Of any of us?”

Thorin bowed his head and Amad set down her mug, reaching to pull Molir’s fingers from fussing with his braid and take them in hers. “I am blessed in that I don’t remember much about that day, but I do know that I owe you both my life, and I know what my life cost. I know well who we left behind. I may have forgotten many things but I know their names and their faces, and I know that we will never forget them. It was bad. It was terrible and awful and we had hard times that day and plenty since. But those hard times could have been so much worse.”

Kili looked down at Fili. In his mind he could see narrow stone passageways and the orange glow of fire against darkness. He could smell the smoke. He couldn’t imagine what a dragon’s roar sounded like but it must have been horrifying. His heart beat a little faster as he looked at Thorin. He tried to imagine what it must have felt like, the strength it must have taken to say farewell to his brother and sister. To kiss them goodbye and turn away to run back into the flames as the mountain crumbled around them. Not knowing if they were safe. Not knowing if you would ever see them again in this life.

His heart swelled with pride even as he adjusted his grip on Fili, holding his brother a little closer and tighter. His uncle was a hero. There was none greater.

Kili felt like a coward. He wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t rather let the world and everything in it burn to ash than be separated from Fili. He closed his eyes and said a fervent little prayer that he would never have to find out, pressing a hard kiss into Fili’s hair as his brother murmured and shifted in his grip.

“To the fallen.” Amad raised her mug.

“To the fallen.” Molir and Thorin echoed as they raised theirs in salute and they all took a long drink. Kili took a sip and mouthed the words silently.

They sat for a long moment, their heads bowed.

“But what if-”

“Thorin. That is a path that will lead you nowhere but into despair.” Amad dropped their joined hands and refilled the mugs. “And haven’t we all trodden and retrodden it in the dark hours before the dawn. What if the alarm had been raised earlier? What if the gates had been thicker? What if we had lost Sigin'adad that day? Perhaps with enough what if’s there would have been no Azanulbizar and perhaps then Frerin would be sitting with us now. Or perhaps we’d still be living in a wooden hut, with the wind driving between the boards, on the outskirts of some forsaken mannish village in the wilds of Dunland. Eking out a living on scraps. Nothing more than a cautionary tale to others of a people laid low, if any tales were told of us at all. Perhaps we would simply have been forgotten.”

“Or perhaps-”

Amad held up a hand to silence him. Thorin obediently fell silent as she took a drink and continued.

“I’m not finished. Perhaps ultimately it would have changed nothing because our paths are already laid before our feet, because we do not get a moment longer than Mahal sees fit to give us.”

“This is very gloomy talk, Dis.” Molir drained his mug. “I’ll have you know that when I go it will be at a time of my choosing, and on my own terms. I do not like the thought of being a pawn in someone else’s game. That is old-fashioned, superstitious nonsense, and I don’t believe for one moment that you believe it either.” He pointed his mug at Thorin. “You, however, I’m not so sure about you.”

“I believe in fate. Destiny. Of course I do. I believe that one day I will be presented with the opportunity to take back what is ours and I will not hesitate for even a moment when that day comes,” Thorin said, with conviction. “We will stand in Erebor once more, my friend.”

“Erebor is half a world away.” Molir smiled. “And that, I feel, is the perfect distance to have between me and a dragon because I for one have no desire to see Smaug again. But I have had a nice evening and I am of a mind to humour you. So tell me, however would you get there and how in Durin’s name would you intend to dispose of the beast?”

“The distance is a trivial matter, we have travelled it before and we will do it again. As for Smaug, he is only a creature and all creatures can be killed. For death comes to us all, whether we be dragon or dwarf. And therefore it is but a series of problems, and all problems have a solution if you have the will and the imagination for it." Thorin leaned forward in his chair toward Molir. “I swear to you that one day we will take back our home.”

“Do you know...sometimes I almost believe you.”

Thorin grinned. “You should not doubt me. I would make a wager with you, but it would pain me to take your coin on a certainty.”

“It would be good to see the mountain again some day.”

“I would like to see it,” Amad said. “I don’t remember it.”

Kili watched as Thorin and Molir turned to Amad. She shrugged.

“At least, I don’t properly remember it. Everything before that day feels like a dream, or like someone has told me about it. Like in a story.”

“You were only a dwarfling and you had had a terrible shock, it will all come back to you when you see it again.” Thorin stretched out his legs and settled back in the chair. “It will be a shame to leave this place though. Do you remember when we first arrived? It was but a shell, not much more than a ruin. I remember that every roof leaked, or at least every structure that had a roof. I have been thinking that when the time comes one of the boys can stay and keep it running. It would be good practice. Fili can-”

He must have made some small noise for Thorin stopped and all three of them swung their heads around and looked at him. Amad frowned slightly.

“I’d quite forgotten about you two.” Thorin smiled at him. “It’s past time you were both in bed, I think. Is my Fili asleep?”

Kili moved forward a little to try and see Fili’s face. He felt a bit shaky. “Fee?”

Thorin stood. “Don’t wake him.” He stepped across and slid his arms under Fili, lifting him to his chest as if he were only a little dwarfling. Fili grumbled sleepily, his eyes flickering open, and Thorin hushed him.

“Do you need me to come back for you?” he asked Kili.

Kili considered it for a moment as he watched Fili close his eyes and snuggle a bit closer to Thorin. He shook his head.

“Good lad. Lead on then.”

He scooted across to their bedroom door and opened it wide, waiting for Thorin. His uncle grinned at them all as he adjusted his grip and hoisted Fili a little higher in his arms.

“He’s a bit heavier than the last time I did this.”


	10. Respectable and civilised dwarves

“He’s fast asleep,” Thorin said with a laugh as he opened the door. Warm light flooded into the bedroom from the main living quarters and Kili pulled the covers closer about his neck.

“Of course he is.” Amad sounded annoyed. “He’s exhausted, Thorin. He’s—”

“I know. I know. So you’ve told me. Repeatedly. But Fili hasn’t said—”

The heavy door closed behind Thorin and muffled the rest of the words. Kili listened hard in the dark but it was no good. He turned over and tried again to get comfortable. Nothing felt right. Not the mattress, or the pillow. He punched it for a bit and tried again. That made no difference either.

A familiar creak and he looked up at Amad, silhouetted in the doorway as she peered into the room.

“There you are.” She sounded confused. “I wasn’t expecting to see you in your own bed.” She bumped the door closed and made her way across the room.

Kili sat up as she handed him a bowl. “Uncle Thorin said I should sleep here.”

“Oh.” She placed a jug of water on the floor and glanced over at Fili’s bed. With a smile she turned back to him. “Go on, eat up and then straight to sleep. Molir admitted to me that they didn’t bother themselves feeding you. Too busy drinking.”

He’d thought himself hungry, but as Kili stirred the spoon through the spiced stewed apples he found his appetite completely gone. His stomach tied up in painful knots. The steam rose from the bowl, warm against his face and sickly sweet. He didn’t want it. His amad was watching him closely though so he lifted a small spoonful to his mouth and forced himself to swallow. It didn’t taste like it normally would.

“Thank you, Amad.”

The mattress dipped as she sat down. “You don’t need to worry about something that has not yet happened and may never happen.” Her voice was gentle and kind as she smoothed the hair from his face. “No-one is taking your Fili away from you.”

Kili’s nose prickled. He stared into the bowl, not wanting to meet her eyes.

Amad sighed. “That’s how it is, is it? All right then, I’ll leave you be. Eat up and go to sleep.” She pressed a kiss against his head and the mattress shifted again as she stood.

He stirred the apples and watched her through his hair as she crossed the room and bent over to kiss Fili before heading to the door. As it closed behind her he heard Thorin and Molir's voices raised together quietly in song. A mournful, unsettling tune that raised the hairs on the back of Kili's neck. He pulled the blanket over his head and squeezed his eyes closed.

* * *

Gimli’s loud laughter filled the room. Laughter, and the sound of a wooden spoon rattling furiously against a pot.

Kili clapped his hands tight over his ears and glared at Gimli as Fili pulled the pillow from under his head and hurled it. Gimli skipped aside easily and made for the door at speed as Fili flung the covers back and searched around for something heavier to throw, his groping hand finding the empty water pitcher.

“You had better run!” roared Fili. He collapsed back onto the bed with a groan, the pitcher falling back to the floor and rolling onto its side. Thankfully still in one piece.

Kili rested his aching head onto the mattress and listened to Fili grumble about murdering fool cousins with a spoon. “We should probably get up. He'll only come back if we don't,” he said when Fili quietened.

“If he sets foot back inside this room I'll put his head in that pot and ring it like a bell.” Fili pulled the covers back across them. “I had a dream that I woke up and you weren’t beside me, little brother. But you’re here.”

“I’m here.”

The singing had stopped sometime before dawn. Still sleepless despite his best efforts, Kili waited and listened hard. Only after he heard the slam of the front door, and the sounds of Amad making her own way to bed, did he dare abandon his own and creep across to Fili’s. Pleased to find that, even in his tired and drunken state, his brother had managed to stay on his own side. It was simply impossible to sleep alone. No matter that Thorin had directed him to his own bed and reminded him with a smile that he was far too old to be still sharing a bed with his big brother, and that there was a perfectly good bed on the other side of the room. Kili had crawled in against Fili’s back and fallen soundly asleep in moments.

He was still tired though, but they really should get up. He yawned widely and smiled as he heard Fili do the same behind him. The mattress shifted and Fili shoved the pillow back under Kili’s head and wrapped a heavy arm tightly around him. Kili closed his eyes and snuggled back against his brother’s warmth. Another little nap wouldn’t hurt.

* * *

Fili really wasn't at his best. Kili watched from the bench with concern as his brother picked himself back up and dusted himself down.

“Ready,” Fili said after a few moments. He tossed his shield aside and lifted the axe again, shifting it to a double handed grip this time, and planted his feet.

Dwalin laughed. “Go on, Molir. And wake up, Fili. You’re better than this.”

If looks could kill Dwalin would have found himself in a lot of trouble.

“I wonder, would Dwalin let me have a try at Fili next? I think I might ask him. Molir looks like he could do with a lie down,” Gimli whispered excitedly in Kili’s ear. “I could be in with a good chance today.”

“Leave him alone.” Kili didn’t take his eyes from Fili as Molir moved forward and swung. Fili skipped aside, the blunted blade missing him by inches, and turned with a swing that Molir blocked easily. They moved around each other slowly as Dwalin roared at them to pick up their feet. “He’d be a lot better if they let him fight with his swords. It’s not fair. And he doesn’t like having to use a shield.”

“He’d be a lot better if you all hadn’t drank the tavern dry.” Gimli nudged Kili hard. “You should have invited me.”

“You’re too young.”

“I’m barely younger than you.”

“Fifteen years, Gimli.”

Gimli snorted. “That’s hardly anything. You should have seen my adad when he got home last night. He fell in through the door, singing.”

Kili laughed. He wasn’t sure he’d quite forgiven Gloin for that terrible drink. Fili had told him that they were dancing on the table with Nori before they left the tavern, but Kili had no recollection of it at all. It sounded like fun and he really wished he could remember it. And he could still taste fire and herbs when he swallowed. He wasn’t convinced that he mightn’t be sick at any moment. But he was very thankful Dwalin was busy with Fili and Molir, and wasn’t paying him and Gimli any attention. Kili didn’t think he could manage to even lift an axe just yet, never mind swing one without chopping his own foot off.

“I found him in front of the fire this morning,” said Gimli, “fast asleep and all tucked up in his bedroll. Amad threw him out of bed for snoring. She said he was very lucky she didn’t just hold a pillow over his face and be done with it. He was still apologising by the time I left to come see you.”

“Did you wake him the same way you woke us?”

Gimli laughed. “You should have seen your faces. I honestly thought Fili was going to come at me and I’d have to defend myself with only a wooden spoon. But it wasn’t my fault. Dwalin sent me in to wake you both. It wasn’t me who slept in past daybreak and missed their lessons.”

“Dwalin gave you the pot?”

“Well, no. That was my idea. It was funny though.”

He and Fili had been cosied up and fast asleep when Dwalin flung their bedroom door open. It met the wall with a crash as their tutor shouted far, far too loudly about lazy dwarflings and wasting the day. Threatening either a dousing or an ear boxing, the choice left up to them, if Dwalin didn’t see movement right now, this very moment. Heavy boots stomped across the room, each one feeling like a hammer blow to Kili’s head, and he managed to crack an eye open just in time to watch Dwalin wrench the curtains apart. The bright sunlight streamed across the room toward them and straight into his tired eyes. Behind him Fili unwisely chose that moment to grumble something loud enough for Dwalin to hear and, before Kili realised what was happening, the covers were trailed rudely from them. Then, with a dip and a bounce of the mattress and a shout of protest, Fili was gone.

His eyes screwed tightly shut, Kili pushed his head under the pillow and wondered if the covers were within arms reach or if he would have to move. He wasn’t sure he was capable of it. He had just steeled himself to have a look when a big hand wrapped around his upper arm, and he’d found himself unceremoniously yanked out of bed too.

“Kili!”

Kili turned and looked toward the entrance of the training yard. His head spun a little at the sudden movement.

Balin waved at him. “Good lad, fetch your brother and come up to your uncle’s chambers. He wants to speak with you both.”

Beside him Gimli swore, sounding bitterly disappointed.

* * *

“You’re both looking a bit pale, my lads. Sit down.”

Once they were settled Thorin leant his elbows on the desk and looked between them. His face serious. Kili felt his stomach drop to his boots and glanced at Fili, suddenly frightened of whatever his uncle was about to say. He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear anything about Erebor or dragons. He wished he had crept to their bedroom door and pressed his ear against it to listen instead of lying fretting in his bed. Sleepless and worried and useless. He wished his chair was a little closer to Fili’s.

He looked at Fili’s hands folded neatly on his lap and wished he could reach out and take his brother’s hand in both of his and never let go.

He’d missed something.

Kili swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked up. Fili and Thorin stared back at him. Concern written across both their faces.

“Are you feeling unwell, little brother?” Fili reached out and gently placed his fingers against Kili’s forehead. He spoke to Thorin. “He feels cold, but he’s sweating.”

Kili nodded, although he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing with. He did feel cold, and his mouth was dry and his heart was pounding loudly in his ears. Thorin placed a mug on the desk in front of him and he jumped.

“Drink it.” Thorin sat down again in his chair and smiled at him. “That’s the last time you go drinking with that bunch of reprobates. Next time I’ll take you both, and show you how to drink like respectable and civilised dwarves.”

Both. His uncle had said both. Kili allowed himself a tiny flicker of hope. He lifted the mug with shaking hands and gulped the cold water down, telling himself that he felt a little better. If there was time then he could work out a way to stop it. He’d ask Gimli to help and together they would fix it somehow.

“Did you hear any of what I just said?” asked Thorin when Kili set the empty mug down.

Kili shook his head and mumbled an apology. Fili shifted his chair a little closer and smiled, his eyes still concerned as he wound his fingers through Kili’s and squeezed comfortingly.

* * *

“I think we could probably risk taking these strappings off,” Oin said. “You’re absolutely sure this doesn’t hurt?”

Kili nodded as Oin manipulated his fingers. It hurt a little. Well, it hurt a lot really if he was being completely honest, but he reckoned it was mostly in his mind. Thorin trusted him to guard his brother and he couldn’t very well do that properly without his bow. He schooled his face to stay smooth as Oin bent his fingers back.

“I don’t usually bend my fingers that way when I’m shooting,” he said, happy that his voice wasn’t giving away how sore it was. Sharp jolts of pain shot up his bones as far as his elbow and it was a real effort not to pull his arm away.

“You’d be surprised.” Oin looked at him sharply and Kili forced himself to nod and murmur some agreement.

“What is this, Oin?”

Kili looked over his shoulder at his brother, full of gratitude to Fili for the distraction. As Oin released his fingers and reached for the thick book Fili held out Kili tried to resist the urge to shove his hand under his arm, or run for the door.

“Ah, that’s the one Balin brought back for me. He picked it up from a stallholder in some market town out toward Harlond. Bought it for next to nothing apparently, although I’m not sure what he expects me to do with it. It’s in some form of Elvish. Can’t make head nor tail of it.” Oin handed the book back to Fili and picked up Kili’s hand again. “You’d think they’d write their medical texts in Common. For accessibility.”

Kili exchanged a glance with Fili as Oin muttered about elves and their secretive ways. Balin’s library held a lot of texts, on every imaginable subject and in every known language, but, as far as Kili was aware, the dwarven works were written almost exclusively in Khuzdul. And no dwarven text would ever be found sitting in a mannish market, to be sold for a coin or two to just anybody who came along and expressed an interest. Balin would burn the library to the ground before he would allow that to happen. Kili was certain of it.

He looked across the room at Oin’s bookshelf. “Are our medical books written in Common?”

“Of course not,” said Oin. “Why would they be?”

“May I borrow it?” Fili asked.

“You may.” Oin stopped squeezing Kili’s fingers and looked at Fili curiously. Kili sucked in a quick breath to ready himself for whatever brand of torture Oin intended for him next. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m going to try and read it. I’ve never really read any Elvish, and I don’t recognise any of this at all. It’ll be fun.” Fili wandered off and settled himself down in the armchair underneath the largest window.

Kili watched as Fili made himself comfortable and opened the book, almost reverently. He looked at Oin, sure his face mirrored the medic’s. Sometimes he really didn’t understand his big brother.

“Fun?” Oin’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, whatever makes you happy, laddie.”

“Thanks, Oin.” Fili lifted his head and smiled across at them, looking very content. “If I can work it out, do you want me to translate it for you?” He flicked through the book slowly. “I think the diagrams will help a good deal. It might take me a while though because I don’t seem to have a lot of time at the moment to sit and read, apart from what Uncle Thorin gives me. And that has to be a priority of course. But come winter I’m sure I’ll have much more free time. Perhaps you could help me, Kili?”

Kili could think of at least a hundred things right off the top of his head that he would rather do, perhaps even a thousand, than translate a whole book of elvish runes. He didn’t know anything about elvish writing, but from what Uncle Thorin and others told him about elves he knew as a race they were terribly long-winded. Not to mention too fancy and pompous for their own good. So Kili couldn’t imagine their books being any different. But, despite his misgivings, he found himself nodding enthusiastically as Fili smiled broadly at him.

“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but I’ll try,” he said. Although he wasn’t sure Fili even heard his answer, his brother’s eyes already drawn back down to the book.

Oin shrugged and pulled Kili’s hand back toward him. “That’s a very nice offer, Fili. You enjoy yourself. Now, Kili, pay attention. What about when I do this?”

* * *

His hand was throbbing but the strapping was off, and Oin content, so that was all that mattered. Kili wriggled his fingers. They felt odd after being so tightly wrapped together for so long, but he was sure they’d be fine once his bow was back in his hands. He glanced out the window behind him and wondered if he could persuade Fili to visit the range with him in a bit, even to take just a shot or two. Oin had warned him sternly not to overdo it, but emptying a few quivers would probably be fine. That could hardly be considered overdoing it, not by anyone’s standards. Although Kili got the feeling that Fili was avoiding Dwalin, so perhaps not.

“You’ll be very pleased to know that I have your lessons all planned out for over the winter, Kili.” Balin set a steaming mug of tea on the table in front of Kili, along with a plate that held two large seedcakes. He wagged a finger in warning. “Don’t spill any of that or get any crumbs over my maps.”

Kili pushed the map away obediently, suddenly realising how hungry he was as he tore into the first cake. Too worried, and feeling too sick to eat, when they’d eventually arisen he hadn’t been able to stomach any breakfast, and it was getting well past lunch. The sweetness of honey coated his tongue and lifted his spirits. He hoped it would take away the still lingering taste of the firewater. As he ate he kicked his heels happily against the legs of his chair and watched Balin talk with Fili over by the bowed shelves of the library. He wasn’t sure how pleased he was about Balin’s plans. Winter days were short and dull enough at times without being trapped at a table and slowly bored to death. He’d rather learn by watching Thorin like Fili did. Surely he’d take in more doing that than reading dusty old books.

He licked his fingers and dotted up the last crumbs of cake. Resisting, with some difficulty, the urge to lick the plate he pushed it away and pulled the map back toward him as he drank his tea. Carefully he wiped his fingers on his trousers, making completely sure they weren’t sticky, before he slowly traced the route from Thorin’s Halls. From the gates of the settlement, down into the valley and across the River Lune, then across country until his finger reached the Great East Road. He followed the road all the way to Bree, his heart beating a little faster with excitement. Every step they took past the river crossing would be a step onto new, unexplored ground. An adventure. He couldn’t wait to see everything.

It was just a shame they had to travel with Dain.

“Kili,” Balin called. “Will you please stop kicking my furniture? We can’t hear ourselves think over here.”

Kili apologised and tried not to laugh as Fili wagged a finger and pulled a face behind Balin’s shoulder, a fine mimicry of their tutor that would earn his brother an equally fine earboxing if Balin turned and spotted it. Kili set his feet flat on the ground and looked back to the map. “We’ll need ponies, won’t we?”

“I expect so.” Fili sounded a little distracted. “Some of Dain’s folk were on foot, but I don’t think we’ll be allowed to walk. Would we, Balin?”

“No.” Balin pulled another book from the shelves. “I think this might be the one we’re looking for...no, it’s not. Never mind.” He slid the book back into place carefully. “You certainly won’t be permitted to walk. Dain has offered goats, but that would mean you’d have to walk back.”

Kili didn’t mind that. If they walked back then they’d get at least an extra night of camping, maybe two. That would be fun. He spread his fingers wide over their route and tried to work it out.

“I’d rather not make any of Dain’s warriors walk,” said Fili.

He hadn’t thought of that. Fili had told him, eventually and after much badgering, that Fraeg spoke about friendship and being allies and expressed excitement for the upcoming stages of the tourney when they’d talked in the alehouse.

Fili was a terrible liar.

Balin nodded. “And Dis will be pushing for ponies, I expect. She’ll be wanting you out and back as soon as possible. But taking ponies will give you more things to look after.”

Ponies would be better. The goats seemed a little more spirited than the sturdy, steady mountain ponies Kili was used to. He and Gimli had visited the stables to have a closer look at Dain’s warpig, their pockets stuffed full of apples to lure the creature, when they’d been distracted by the large pens full of innocent and playful looking goats. Then Gimli got a nasty nip from one of them, and another leapt right on top of the feed trough and balanced there unnaturally well. As if it were a huge cat or a rabbit and not a hooved, ground-living creature at all. It stared right at them with cunning in its eyes, looking for all the world like it intended to bounce right across the high fence and join them. They had lobbed the remaining apples into the pen and hurriedly retreated before it could carry out whatever crazed plan was circling in its horned head. Ungrateful beasts. Ponies were much better behaved. You knew where you were with them.

“I think we can probably manage to look after a few ponies.” Fili laughed and rolled his eyes at Kili. “This book looks like it might be exactly what I need to get started, Balin. Can I borrow it, and that other one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing you a very Happy New Year! I hope 2021 is treating you well so far. 
> 
> In 2020 I decided to give writing a try and I'm so glad. It's been an amazing experience and I love it. So this year I'm hoping to improve a bit and I've started by attempting to relearn everything I didn't realise I'd forgotten about grammar and punctuation. 
> 
> Fingers crossed you'll start to see an improvement, or I may just be making it worse. If anything a bit wonky jumps out at you and if you feel like letting me know I'd be really grateful.


	11. Lapdogs and wild dogs.

Thorin called for silence and gradually a hush fell over the hall. Kili watched as his uncle lifted the urn containing the names and crooked a finger at him. He stared back in horror. A horrible, cold feeling creeping down his spine, as if his brother had trickled a handful of snow down the back of his tunic.

“Go on,” hissed Fili in his ear. A thick finger poked Kili in the ribs and he jolted almost out of his chair. “Get up there. You’re doing the draw.”

No-one had told him. Why hadn’t anyone told him? Slowly and carefully Kili got to his feet and moved toward the head of the table, smoothing down his tunic as he went and wishing that someone had thought to at least mention it. Surprises were nice, he liked them usually, but this wasn’t a good surprise. This was simply terrifying. He hoped he hadn’t spilled anything down himself at dinner. He really didn’t think so but you never knew, and he was too frightened to look in case he tripped over his own boots. Thorin smiled at him and he tried to smile back.

Loud cheers followed each name, and at least the only name he stumbled over was Fili’s. So as Kili made his way back quickly to his seat he didn’t think he’d made too bad a show of things. He could still feel eyes on him as Thorin called for the musicians. He didn’t like it.

“You did well, little brother.” Fili patted his shoulder as Kili sat down again. Their table partially empty already as the others moved to circulate and join the dancing. He gratefully accepted the tankard Fili handed him and drank half of it down in one go. Perhaps it would help his hands stop shaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.

“Because I didn’t know. I thought it would be Amad or Dain. Uncle Thorin must’ve changed his mind.” Fili frowned and looked hurt. “How could you think I wouldn’t tell you?”

Gimli flopped into a chair opposite and lifted a half full tankard of ale. “That was really funny. How is it possible that you can’t say your own brother’s name by now? I haven’t laughed so hard in ages. Whose drink is this?”

Kili glared at him.

“Dain’s,” said Fili. “Do you want me to get you one of your own?”

Gimli twisted around to look out over the hall. Dain seemed deep in conversation at one of the far tables with Thorin and Balin, a fresh tankard in his hand as he gestured at Thorin. “No, this one will do fine. Looks like he’s forgotten all about it.” Gimli took a large drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Keep an eye out for my amad though, would you? She's still annoyed with Adad, even though he’s sworn up and down that he’ll never touch a drop again, so I'll catch it if she spots me.”

“Prince Fili.”

Kili turned in his chair to watch as a dwarf bowed low to Fili. The stranger extended a hand as he straightened and Kili recognised the grizzled greybeard who had spoken with Fili in the alehouse.

“I believe I’m to be your opponent in the first round.”

“Honlir.” Fili stood with a wide smile and clasped the dwarf’s forearm, indicating his own chair. “Sit, please. Join us. I’ll fetch you an ale.”

The dwarf protested but Fili wouldn’t hear of it. Kili watched his brother disappear off through the crowd toward the bar and turned back to Honlir. He introduced himself and Gimli.

“Oh, I know who you both are, Prince Kili.” Honlir smiled. “I’m a little brother too, just like you. I’m sure you were smarting not to be drawn for the tourney, eh? But never mind, there’ll always be next time. I just hope I'm around to see it.”

Fili returned to the table, with drinks in hand. “Here we are.” He plonked a tankard of ale in front of Kili and handed out the others. “I didn't get to speak to you properly in the tavern, Honlir. I imagine you've some stories to tell, and we'd love to hear all about your adventures. If you're not in a hurry.”

“I'm not sure my stories would hold up against any the King can tell you.” Honlir laughed. “But I can try, if you like.”

Kili shuffled his chair back a bit, so Fili could get closer and hear properly over the noise of the hall. New stories were a great idea. He knew next to nothing about the Broadbeams as a tribe. He took a sip of his fresh ale and nodded happily at Honlir. “Yes, please. I'd really like to hear them.”

At that, Honlir launched into an exciting tale of a battle Kili had never even heard of, although beside him he could see Fili nod as if the name meant something to him, so he nodded along too. Best not to seem ignorant. Perhaps it was one Balin told them about when Kili had been busy thinking of something else. That seemed likely. Even though he generally listened hard when Balin taught them about battles. But maybe Balin had slipped it in amongst a lecture on other, less interesting, things. Sometimes he did that. Kili whispered the name to himself to commit it to memory. He’d ask Fili about it later. Mid-sentence Honlir stopped and they all turned to look across the table at Gimli as he sputtered and swore angrily.

“Milk?” Gimli thrust his drink at Fili.

Kili leaned forward to peer into the tankard as Fili laughed. Gimli glowered back at him as if it were Kili’s fault.

“You're too young, Gimli.” Kili pulled his own tankard closer in case his cousin got any funny ideas. Like tipping it over his head. “And Fee's right, I don't want your amad after me either.”

* * *

Amad hadn’t managed to get them hidden away in the stands of the arena this time.

Kili stole a glance at her as she clapped primly beside him, and tried to hide a smile. She was obviously still furious, he could tell by the depth of the frown line between her eyebrows, but she was trying her best to hide it. Failing badly, but trying. He hoped he was hiding his own disappointment a little better.

Fili had seemed uncharacteristically, but understandably, fretful as they wished him luck outside the arena gates. A slight tremble in his brother’s usually steady hands as Kili helped him pull on the heavy gauntlets, and an odd note in his voice that betrayed his nerves. He was worried about his armour and certain that something still wasn’t right. As Amad held Fili’s face in her hands and talked quietly to him Kili ducked about, checked all the buckles and straps and tried to work out what the issue was. Which meant none of them realised Thorin had tracked them down until it was too late. The crowd streamed noisily around the four of them as Thorin touched Fili’s forehead with his own and whispered some final gentle words of encouragement.

Over his uncle’s wide shoulder Kili met Amad’s eyes. She jerked her head urgently toward the gates, her intention clear, and he sidled back a step as she did the same. They would apologise to Fili later for running away and make it up to him somehow. But they had barely backed away another full step before Thorin turned and, with the speed of a striking snake, caught a hold of both their arms. He held them tightly until Fili left to join the others, and then towed them behind him wordlessly into the arena. All the way along to the Royal stand, up the wide stone steps and then down to the very front row.

“And you’ll stay right here. Where I can keep an eye on you, Dis,” Thorin said with a smile as he placed Amad right beside him. “Both eyes.”

“And I’ll keep an eye on this one for you,” Dain said, as he slung a heavy arm around Kili’s shoulders and ruffled his hair. “I’ll make sure you behave yourself this time, little cousin.”

There had been no point attempting to explain that both he and Amad had been perfectly well behaved during the first stage of the tourney. So Kili stayed quiet and let Amad do the muttering instead.

“That was a good fight.” Dain leaned across Kili and Amad to yell at Thorin over the roar of the crowd. “I knew Dwalin would be one to watch. Disappointed that my lad is out, and went down so fast, but not to worry. I’ve still got Fraeg and Rirlun, so the Iron Hills aren’t nearly done yet. Who’s up next?”

Thorin made what Kili was sure was a pretence of checking the piece of parchment on the railing in front of him. He was certain his uncle knew the order of running by heart. “My Fili.”

“Oh yes. Fili and the Broadbeam greybeard. That should be good.” Dain turned to roar at the Broadbeam lord in the row behind. “So let’s see how yours gets on, shall we? Since you only managed to get one through.”

Kili thought he’d been deafened. Dain was very loud, and that had been right by his ear. Dain turned back and muttered low to him. “Your brother had better wipe the floor with that one. And quickly too. That’ll teach them for laughing about my lad.”

Fili looked strange in his full armour. Like a proper warrior out of a story. Kili watched with worry gnawing at his insides as his brother walked out toward the centre ring of the tourney ground beside Honlir. Bright sunlight glinted off axe and helm and the dust swirled about Fili's boots as he stopped at his mark and shook Honlir’s hand. Fili had protested the helm, claiming he couldn’t see properly, but Thorin and Amad insisted on it and Kili was glad. His big brother looked far too small and slight next to the other dwarf.

Amad gripped Kili’s fingers tightly below the railing as Honlir strode to his mark and the marshals moved forward. Kili leaned forward, although at this distance and over the crowd he hadn't a hope of hearing the words. He barely dared blink as he watched Fili bounce on his toes and shake out his shoulders. Honlir made no such preparations. Instead he stood still. As if he were carved from the mountain itself, and as solid as part of it. The Broadbeam did seem very nice. Kili liked him. When Fili had been called away from the dinner table to attend to his duties Honlir had stayed, and talked pleasantly with Kili and Gimli for some hours. But, friendly or not, Kili was sure the Broadbeam would not hold back on his brother's behalf. And Fili wouldn't want him to. There was honour at stake.

“Was he at Gundabad?” Dain leant across, his wide chest completely blocking Kili’s view, and spoke to Thorin.

“He was, and with us at Azanulbizar.”

“Ah. That’s maybe where I recognise him from. I thought his face was familiar.”

Kili stood on tiptoe to try and see past Dain as the whistle sounded and Fili and Honlir leapt towards each other with a roar.

“Move, cousin.” Amad growled as Fili ducked under the first swing. “Else I’ll pitch you over the railing.”

Dain laughed and returned back to his place as Honlir deflected Fili’s strike with his shield and swung a heavy blow in return. Kili drew in a sharp breath as the blow landed against Fili’s shield, the force of it knocking Fili back a half step. His amad squeezed his fingers hard and a jagged jolt of pain shot through his wrist.

Fili wasn’t as quick as usual. The difference really very noticeable. Kili watched his brother barely sidestep another heavy blow. He wished Dwalin had thought to make Fili practise more in the armour. Or Thorin had let him have his swords. It was very unfair to make everyone fight with axes.

He gasped with his amad as Honlir’s foot skidded. Fili took full advantage of the stroke of luck and launched himself forward in a furious attack. Alternating blows from axe and shield hammered at Honlir, who retreated quickly. The noise in the arena swelled as Honlir finally lost his footing and fell flat on his back. Fili’s blunted axe tight to his throat.

The crowd roared its approval. “Well done, Fili!” shouted Dain. His elbow slammed into Kili’s ribs and knocked him sideways into Amad. “Cheer your brother, lad!”

Kili wasn’t entirely sure if that was allowed. Thorin and Amad were clapping so he copied them, although he’d much rather be shouting with Dain for Fili. It was very exposed, stood before the dwarf lords and in full view of the entire crowd. He really didn’t want to make a mistake.

Below them Fili helped Honlir to his feet and they embraced in a clash of metal before pulling their helms off. Honlir took Fili’s gauntleted hand in his own and raised their clasped hands to the sky as the crowd shouted and cheered. They bowed as one and made their way toward the gates, clapping each other about the shoulders and laughing. Kili shook out his own shoulders and smiled at Amad. She looked a lot more relaxed and he felt the same way.

Fraeg’s bout was over before it really started. Kili blinked and clapped politely as the unfortunate Blacklock dwarf collapsed to the ground and lay still. It had been short and brutal and decisive. Dain roared happily beside him.

The marshal knelt beside the Blacklock as Fraeg raised his arms to the crowd.

As Molir and Rirlun took their places in the centre, the medics carried Fraeg’s fallen opponent out of the arena. Kili felt hopeful as he clapped. Heavily armoured, and with his axe slung over a broad shoulder as he waved to the crowd, Molir stood a full head taller than Rirlun. The Iron Hills dwarf looked like nothing more than a scrawny little dwarfling by comparison. Kili clapped harder and smiled as the knot in his belly loosened. He'd never seen Molir dressed in anything other than his lightly armoured guard uniform, or off duty in tunic and trousers. But in full armour he looked completely different. Intimidating. The outcome surely a certainty. A small, unlikable, part of him hoped briefly to see Rirlun carried out by the medics. He squashed the thought quickly. That was cruel and unkind. A few broken fingers though. Something like that would be fine. And if Dwalin, Fili and Molir went through then there would be less chance of his brother being drawn to fight Fraeg. Not that Fili couldn’t win, but still. It would be good not to test it. It would be much more fun to watch Fili fight Dwalin or Molir.

“Is he much of a fighter, your captain?” said Dain. “I don’t remember ever seeing him in battle.”

Amad looked sharply at Dain. “He can fight. I don’t think your lad will give him much trouble.”

“We’ll see.” Dain chuckled.

The crowd cheered as the marshal signalled the start. Molir and Rirlun raced toward each other, both oddly silent. They traded blows before they broke apart and circled each other. Rirlun was fast, much faster than Kili had expected, and Amad grabbed at his hand and crushed his fingers together painfully, as they engaged again. Rirlun was thrown back and Molir followed, pushing the smaller dwarf towards the line that marked the edge of the fighting area. Obviously intending to force Rirlun across and end the fight without the need for a knockdown. But Rirlun had other ideas. Amad gasped a warning as Rirlun feinted and darted behind Molir. The axe blow hard and fast as it caught Molir in the small of his back. He staggered forward a step, his boot slamming into the dust just before the line, and spun with his shield up, expecting the second strike. But not quickly enough. Kili winced as the axe landed hard against Molir’s neck, between helm and shoulder, in the place where the armour was weakest.

Dain reached across and patted Amad’s arm as Molir stumbled backward across the line, and Rirlun stepped in quickly. His shield discarded and his axe in a double handed grip as he leapt into the air. The marshals whistled urgently in unison, the sound clear and sharp even over the noise of the crowd. Mid swing, Rirlun managed to pull the strike before it landed so it glanced off Molir’s helm and instead struck against his raised arm.

“Sorry, Dis,” Dain said, as Rirlun raised his axe and saluted the crowd.

Kili watched a marshal catch a hold of Molir's arm and motion for him to take off his helm. As Molir shook his head slowly it seemed to Kili that he appeared a little unsteady on his feet. He leant forward over the railing and looked for the medics as Dwalin appeared from the direction of the gates and strode quickly across the arena.

Behind him Dain laughed as he continued, “No need to glare at me like that. Your old lapdog is just no match for my wild dog.”

Kili straightened and tore his eyes away from the arena. Dain grinned at him. “That’s what I call them, lad. My wild dogs. It’s no insult. We’re used to fighting in the Iron Hills. Plenty of vermin on our doorstep to keep our axe blades sharp and our wits keen. Now, that's a thought.” He leaned over to speak to Thorin. “When’s the last time you had orcs here, cousin?”

Thorin was clapping slowly and seemed not to have heard. His eyes thoughtful and fixed on Molir and Dwalin as they made their way slowly toward the gates.


	12. I'll just take Kili then

The dwarf lords showed absolutely no signs of moving.

Kili scuffed his boots against the stone whilst they talked loudly amongst themselves, and tried not to look impatient. The stairs were less than a dozen steps away, and somewhere down there Fili would be waiting on him. Likely Gimli too. He glanced out over the almost empty arena. The barkeeps and their helpers busy as they roamed up and down the stands and collected the empty tankards.

At last Thorin began to lead the others toward the stairs and eventually Kili was able to get his feet on the first step. On tip toe he peered down over the heads of the lords as they filed their way slowly down toward the arena floor and spotted Fili. His brother stood alone by the arena wall with his helm abandoned at his feet. It took all Kili’s self control not to push his way down the stairs. They were so slow. Like they had all the time in the world. It felt like forever before he reached the floor and could dodge around them all.

Fili met him halfway and wrapped him up in a hug. Crushed to Fili’s armour Kili pushed his head against his brother’s. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, “and I’m sorry I couldn’t cheer you. And I’m sorry—”

“Hush.” Fili laughed. “Stop apologising. You looked quite the prince up there, little brother. Very grand. I think you’re getting the hang of it all.”

“Hardly. You look warm.”

“I think I’m actually melting, or cooking. It’s hotter than working in the forges in this armour. But Dwalin said I’ve to keep it on. I don’t know what I’ve done to make him want to torture me.”

“Let me help.” Kili pushed the damp hair back from Fili’s face. He gathered it all up and blew lightly on the flushed skin at the nape of his brother’s neck.

Fili groaned gratefully and rested his head on Kili’s shoulder. “Please don’t stop. That’s bliss. Do you think Uncle Thorin would mind much if I cut my hair off?”

“I think Amad might have a—”

The clip around the ear wasn’t hard. But it was unexpected. Kili dropped Fili’s hair and muttered an apology. Even though he didn't know who had hit him or even what he was apologising for.

“What, exactly, do you two think you’re doing?” Dwalin thrust the discarded helm into Fili’s hands. “Come on, Crown Prince. You’re with me. We’ve a few hours before dinner, and from what I saw out there today we’ve a lot of work to do. And what have you done with your axe?”

* * *

Kili’s face flushed with pride as Dain clapped beside him.

“Go on then. Run and fetch them and you can show me again. But further back this time. Let’s make it a challenge for you.”

Kili tried and failed to keep the happy bounce out of his steps as he ran to the target. The sound of clashing metal drifted from one of the private chambers that surrounded the empty training yard, and as Kili carefully slotted his arrows back into his quiver he tried to peer in through the partially opened doors. Shadows moved within and a command from Dwalin rang out sharply but he missed his brother’s reply.

Behind him Dain whistled. Kili spun and raced back.

“Right then.” Dain pointed out a spot. “From here. Let’s see you.”

He drew. It was a lot further back than he usually stood. As he sighted carefully Kili tried to push away the doubt and steady his breathing. Dain seemed to think he could do it so it must be possible. When at last he was ready he released and they watched as the arrow flew across the yard and struck the target. Barely. Kili’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“What?” asked Dain, with his hands paused mid-clap.

“It was a poor shot.” It was more than that. It was an embarrassing shot. A little to the right and he would have missed the target entirely. Kili reached for another arrow. Determined to quickly show Dain that he could do better. Before the dwarf lord left in disgust.

Dain snorted and gestured toward the target. “Hardly a poor shot, lad. That’s an impressive distance. But we’ll go a bit closer because I want you to show me how quickly you can empty that quiver.” Dain pulled him forward a half dozen steps, and frowned as Kili readied himself. “No. I didn’t say you could prop it on the ground. Would you have your quiver by your feet in a battle? I don’t think so. Get it on your back.”

Obediently Kili slung the quiver across his shoulders and hoped he wouldn’t fumble and drop any of the arrows. He shifted his stance and stretched out his fingers.

“That hand bothering you?”

Kili shook his head. “I’m a bit out of practice, that’s all.”

“Ah, so you’re normally even better than this. Is that what you’re telling me?” Dain grinned at him and raised an eyebrow.

The heat rose in Kili’s face again as Dain’s words sank in. He kicked himself for not stopping to think for a single moment before he spoke. Thorin had drilled it into him over and over, yet still he got carried away and forgot. Unable to stop himself from saying the first foolish thought that came into his head. Dain must think him a show off.

“No, I didn’t mean...I’m…”

He really hadn’t meant to sound prideful. Desperately he searched for some way to explain himself without making it even worse and couldn’t find any words. Kili dropped his head and avoided Dain’s eyes. Perhaps silence was best.

A big hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

“Don’t ever put yourself down,” Dain said. His voice unusually low and kind. “You’ll find more than enough folk in this world happy to do that for you.” He gave Kili a hard shake. “Get your head up, lad. Show me what you can do.”

* * *

Dain was still in fine spirits at dinner.

Kili poked at his food and listened to the conversations going on around him with half an ear. The food was good as usual, and he had thought himself hungry, but he seemed to have completely lost his appetite. His afternoon with Dain had been a welcome distraction from his thoughts, but now, with all the loud talk and excitement about the final day of the tournament, the worry was back. He shot another sideways glance at his brother. Fili seemed fine. Smiling and talking as if there was nothing the matter and it were just a night like any other.

The draw for the next round had taken place immediately after Molir’s bout and Kili, despite his whispered protest, was told to switch places with his amad. His heart hammered furiously, as if it thought he were in a race rather than stood at his uncle's side, whilst Kili unfolded the first of the names. Dwalin. With shaking fingers and eyes tightly closed he had reached into the urn and prayed fervently that Fili's slip of parchment would be next. His prayer unanswered. As usual.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered in Fili’s ear.

Fili smiled at him and refilled Kili’s wine glass. His own still untouched. “Stop apologising. I can do it. I’ve done it before, haven’t I?” he whispered back.

Kili nodded and tried to put the thought of the Blacklock dwarf lying motionless on the arena floor out of his mind. Amad had told him that the dwarf was with the medics and that Kili wasn’t to worry. The lad just needed some rest and he’d be right as rain and cheering with the rest of them in the stands by tomorrow. Kili wasn’t sure he believed it. He looked across the hall to the far table and watched Molir talk animatedly with Dwalin and Balin. Only some hurt pride. That was what Molir had told him with a too wide smile and a pat on the head. Not even so much as a bruise. Nothing for Kili to concern himself with.

Kili watched Molir closely. He wasn’t sure he believed that either. He tore his eyes away as Dain laughed loudly.

“Never?” Dain clapped Thorin’s shoulder. “How is that possible? They’re not both untested, surely? At their age? I can understand Kili, almost, but not Fili too?”

“I intend to take them come spring.”

“Excuse me?” said Amad. “Where do you intend to take who, Thorin?”

“Orc hunting of course.” Dain winked at Kili. Kili felt rather than saw Fili turn away from his own conversation and pay attention. “It’s past time the two of you were blooded. Don’t look at me like that, Dis. You were younger than them.”

“It was a different world then,” said Amad.

“It is exactly the same world.” Dain looked to Thorin. “If not growing worse. You are sheltered here, and that is good, and I am happy for you because a peaceful life is a beautiful thing. But it is not real. Because I can tell you for a fact that they are on my doorstep, and they grow more numerous and bold every single year. Someday they will sniff you out and find their way right to your gates, and I can tell you now that you do not have enough warriors. Not nearly enough. It’s beyond complacent and irresponsible for you to think otherwise, and I’m a little disappointed in you actually because I thought you had some sense. My boy was out with me before he was even little Gimli’s age.”

Kili covered a smile behind his fingers and stole a glance at Fili. Little Gimli. Their cousin was going to be really annoyed when Kili told him, and extra annoyed when Fili likely started using it.

“I’d expect my Thorin to be running his own patrols by the time he’s this one's age—” Dain pointed a thick finger at Kili “—and yet he can barely be trusted outside the gates on his own without getting himself into some sort of mischief by the sounds of it. What sort of pampered dwarflings are you raising here? I know you’re right by the Shire, and whatever witchcraft keeps that soft country safe from harm likely keeps you protected. But that could change at any time. You, Thorin, of all of us should know better. But the same goes for you too, Dis. You should all be better prepared.”

At his back Fili had stiffened. Kili knew his own face was flamed red by the lecture. It was an insult to his uncle. Well, to all of them really. Although the mischief comment might not be entirely without merit. He pretended to study his plate, and hoped his hair hid him enough as he watched Thorin closely.

Thorin glanced at him and Fili before he reached across the table to pat Amad’s hand. “This isn’t dinner table talk.” He shot a hard look at Dain before he turned his eyes back to their amad. “I intended to tell you immediately after the celebrations, Dis. It’ll be good for the boys and, like Dain says, even if I don't completely agree with him myself, it’s probably past time. I’ll take a hunting party north after the snows melt and you can look after the halls in my stead. We won’t be more than a week or two, I expect.”

Dain raised his eyebrows.

“There’s no one I’d trust more to look after my people in my absence.” Thorin smiled at Amad.

Kili thought she didn’t look especially happy about it, but he wasn’t sure which part exactly had upset her. All of it maybe. He looked over his shoulder to smile at Fili. Who didn’t return it. Instead his brother looked annoyed. Much of what Dain said offended Kili too but a hunting trip with their uncle sounded wonderful. And if that was intended for the spring then that also meant Thorin had no immediate plans to take Fili half a world away. Kili turned back to his dinner. Suddenly feeling very hungry and a lot better about everything.

“I can take them both on with me from Bree,” said Dain, his face serious. “Get them trained properly and send them back to you in a few years. Warriors, rather than—”

“No.” Thorin and Amad both spoke at once.

“Fine. I'll just take Kili then.”

Kili dropped his fork with a clatter and stared at Dain. Certain he’d misheard.

“Fili's old enough to make his own way back, or you can send Dwalin or someone with them if you feel he needs a guard.” Dain reached past Amad and ruffled Kili's hair. “No need to look like a frightened rabbit, lad. We get on all right, don't we? You can come with me, and we'll see that fine bow of yours in some real action. I bet you'd love to shoot a few orcs? Get the heart going a bit harder than shooting at a target in a yard. And there's been a lot of wargs about last year too. You do know what a warg is?”

Kili seemed to have lost his voice. He licked his dry lips to see if that would help but no sound came out.

“He knows what a warg is. It's a wolf,” said Fili. There was an odd note in his voice and Kili wanted to turn to look, but he was pinned in Dain's gaze. Dain ignored Fili and nodded at Kili encouragingly, obviously awaiting a response, but Kili didn't know what to say. The tunic tightened about his waist and he knew without looking that Fili's hand was fisted in the material at his back.

“Kili's killed a wolf before,” Fili continued stubbornly. “A big one. He doesn't need to go away to do it. He saved my—"

Dain held up a hand for silence. He leaned forward toward Thorin and lowered his voice. “You know it's the best course, and it'll do wonders for his confidence. You'll not recognise him when he—"

“No.” Fili’s hand banged the table hard enough to rattle the tableware and Thorin hushed him sharply. Kili saw dwarves at the nearby tables break away from their own conversations to take an interest. He grabbed his brother’s hand and turned to him. At last able to tear his eyes away from Dain.

Fili's own eyes were wide and locked on Kili's. “You don't want to go, do you?” he whispered.

Dain continued to talk in a low voice with Thorin. Although not meant for their ears the words carried easily down the table to them.

“—could do with a proper archer. Have to get him on something other than a pony though. Useless creatures. He was showing me earlier—"

He could make a name for himself. Kili looked down at Fili's fingers intertwined with his. He hadn't really thought very much of it when Dain walked back with him and Amad after the tourney. They’d had tea and Dain poked around their house and then asked if he could watch Kili shoot. There hadn't been any reason to refuse and Amad almost pushed them out of the house. It wasn't as if Kili had any other plans, and he was flattered and excited that Dain wanted to spend time with him alone. The interesting ideas for exercises were a lot of fun too. Although with hindsight they now made a lot more sense. He realised now why Dain had him racing around and aiming at the target from different angles. Before they parted ways to get ready for dinner Dain even insisted on a lesson himself. Although his beard got in the way, and he was an even worse shot than Fili. Kili had tried to hide his winces as he fretted for the fate of his bow in the dwarf lord's big hands.

“Kili?” His brother's fingers touched his face.

It gave Kili a warm glow inside to think that Dain wanted him. Needed him even. He imagined himself stood on a rocky hillside somewhere far out in the East. Protecting his kin as they moved across the ground below him to engage a horde of fast moving orcs. Arrow after arrow finding their mark. In the neck and under the arm. Just like Dain showed him. Kili remembered the calloused fingers pressed tight against his throat. His own heart beating hard against them as Dain told him about the heat of battle and staying calm. He could become an accomplished and fierce archer. Perhaps there might even be others who would want to learn, and he could teach them. It was a thrilling thought.

“—clever lad, I reckon. But they’re far too dependent on each other. It's not healthy—”

Fili looked sad and Kili shook his head quickly. Suddenly fearful that his brother could read his thoughts in his eyes he wrapped his free hand around the back of Fili’s neck and pressed their foreheads firmly together. It didn't matter. Kili screwed his eyes shut. None of it mattered. He wasn't going anywhere. He'd make do with shooting the mountain rabbits. Maybe an orc or two on the hunting trip if he was lucky. Dain could put him in a sack and take him if he wanted. But he'd have to let him out at some point and Kili would find his way home. They couldn’t watch him all the time.

“—out from under his brother's shadow—”

They were close enough for Kili to hear and feel the huge, shuddering breath Fili pulled in. “I won't stand in your way if you want to go, my brother.”

Kili shook his head. “No,” he whispered as Fili's fingers wound tightly into his hair. His brother holding on hard enough to hurt. “My place is by your side.”

Thorin cleared his throat. They slowly released each other and Kili turned to watch their uncle lean back in his chair. “Thank you, cousin. It’s a kind and generous offer. But the first time either of them lay their eyes on Erebor will be right by my side. Dwalin and I are more than capable of training them, and there are plenty of fine warriors here too. No matter your opinion of them.”

“That's quite selfish of you. But what does the boy say? He's an adult, after all. In age if nothing else.” Dain looked at Kili closely. “Go on. I know you've a tongue in that head of yours. What say you?”

“No.”

“No?” Dain looked surprised.

Kili remembered his manners. “No. Thank you, my lord. But I belong here.” He groped under the table and caught hold of Fili's fingers. “With my brother.”


	13. Do you yield?

Dust swept in a shimmering wave across the arena floor.

Fili stood in the doorway and watched it swirl and eddy in the warm wind as he tried to fix the fastening on his vambrace. He snorted. A failure on the builders' part to account for the unseasonably warm and dry weather, and more importantly, the prevailing wind when they chose the location for the huge gates. But perhaps, if he were lucky, their miscalculation would hide him somewhat from the hundreds of sharp eyes ready to watch and judge his every move. He glanced upward at the carved roof of the waiting chamber. Only a few feet of solid stone separated him from his uncle. 

Thorin said it didn’t matter. But it did. What happened today, how badly he failed and made a fool of himself, it mattered more than anything. 

The arena seemed even more packed this morning, which couldn’t be possible, and the crowd even more noisy and boisterous than for the previous heats. The excitement and anticipation rolled off them in waves. Fili wished he felt excited, and able to enjoy this wonderful opportunity that he had once thought he wanted, but instead he just felt sick to his stomach. His kin were ready to be entertained. To cheer and perhaps, if they were feeling unkind or the situation warranted it, to jeer. Hawkers, with their hands full of tankards or carrying trays of food, weaved a path through the surging crowd, and Fili looked desperately amongst them for a friendly face he recognised. But they blurred together in movement as they shifted and vied for position. His eyes flickered faster over the crowd. He couldn’t see Gimli, or Balin, or anyone. Why was no-one here? 

He took a breath to fight a rising panic and closed his eyes as he tried to force his heart to slow. His family were here and he knew exactly where they were. The others were out there somewhere. They would cheer him on. Maybe in pity or through a sense of obligation, but he wasn’t alone. 

At least it was blessedly cool in the waiting chamber. That was something. 

Cold metal wrapped around the back of his neck and Fili jumped.

“With me,” Dwalin hissed. 

Dwalin was already moving away. Fili reluctantly turned his back on the arena and followed his tutor to the furthest corner of the chamber. 

“What’s—” He yelped in surprise as his back hit the wall. The clash of metal against stone loud in the quiet chamber. 

“Fili,” said Dwalin in a low voice.

Fraeg and Rirlun sat close together on the bench that lined the wall near the doorway. Rirlun only glanced their way before he returned his gaze toward the arena, but Fraeg watched him and Dwalin closely. A small, knowing, smile on his face.

“Look at me.” Dwalin gripped his jaw and Fili snapped his attention to his tutor. Although he didn’t like taking his eyes from Fraeg. “Good lad. Now listen.” Dwalin lowered his voice further and moved closer so they were chest to chest and Fili was forced to look up at him. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, Dwalin.” It came out as a mumble. It was hard to nod or speak with his head clamped tightly in place by Dwalin's big hand.

Dwalin smiled. “Your armour is fine. The helm. The axe. All of it. Fine. I promise you.”

It really wasn’t. “But I think—“

“No. You have been fussing and fidgeting since we arrived. It’s all fine. What is not fine is in here.” Dwalin tapped Fili smartly on the temple. “And it’s what’s in there, not what you’re wearing or what weapon you have in your hand, that will put you on your back with his axe to your throat. I said look at me.”

Fraeg was grinning. Dwalin flicked a glance over his shoulder and moved to block Fili’s view. “Ignore him. He’s got to you. But I know you can win this. You know you can win this.”

He really couldn’t. Fili wished he had kept his mouth shut in the alehouse. Instead he let Fraeg’s words crawl under his skin, and the drink fuel his bravado, and now he would pay the price. Because Dain was right. He was nought but a pampered, spoilt dwarfling, and his team had humoured him. Pandered to and indulged him. For who would refuse their Crown Prince the chance to try his luck? And so this was the outcome, and it was no more than he deserved. Because this place by Dwalin’s side belonged to a warrior. A warrior like Balin, for he would not tremble under his armour, or Gloin, for he would be able to look his opponent in the eye. To Nori, perhaps, who would return Fraeg’s smile with an unsettling one of his own. Or to Bombur who would have stood sure and certain that, no matter the outcome, his family would never think any less of him.

Fili sighed. He had stolen a place and this would be his lesson. To be thrown to the ground and embarrassed in front of all his kin. In front of Thorin. But it was too late to make amends now. He could only pray to land a blow, or at the very least not make too big a fool of himself.

Cold metal tapped his cheek. “Are you still with me?” Dwalin looked annoyed. “Your uncle was a lot younger than you when he fought in his first battle. A battle. This is nothing. A bit of fun. It’s not life and death. No-one is trying to kill you.”

That was debatable.

“And no-one will be disappointed in you, no matter the outcome.”

Kili’s face had been pale as milk when they said their goodbyes. His heart rate kicked up again. He was going to disappoint his baby brother. That was a thousand times worse than disappointing Thorin. A thousand times worse than any humiliation he could possibly face in the arena. Fraeg had hurt Kili badly, by more than a few broken fingers, for Fili watched with concern as his once confident little brother twitched everytime Fraeg so much as looked his way. He had let Kili down. Badly. Pride and bluster had got the better of him, and now Kili was going to have to watch his defender — the one he always looked up to no matter how many times Fili told him he shouldn’t — be defeated.

“Dwalin. Rirlun.”

Dwalin released him and held up a finger to the marshal. His gauntlet rang as he clapped Fili’s shoulder and placed his lips by his ear. “Remember what I told you. And no matter what happens out there. I’m proud of you.” He smiled and straightened with a final pat to Fili’s cheek. “Relax and enjoy yourself, laddie, and I’ll see you after.”

The noise swelled and the cheers echoed and bounced off the walls of the rough hewn chamber as Dwalin and Rirlun walked out side by side into the bright sunlight. Fili knew he should move to the door and watch the bout. He knew he’d regret it if he didn’t. But his legs were uncooperative and refused to obey him, so instead he rested his head back against the wall and watched Fraeg move to the doorway. The warrior’s bulk blocking out the light, and leaving Fili in shadow.

* * *

Dis gripped the stone railing and tried to calm her thoughts as Dwalin and Rirlun took their positions. She should clap and smile, like her brave young son beside her, and make small talk with every outward show of enjoyment. He was an example to her. Despite his pale face and the tightness around his eyes that spoke of yet another sleepless night.

Her fingers tightened until the tips went while and the bones hurt. She couldn’t bring herself to let go. Fearful that if she did she might not be able to stop herself from strangling her cousin. Dain had laughed when she collared him after the dinner. After she kissed her worried boys and sent them home with instructions to go straight to bed and to sleep. Which of course they didn’t do. The pair of them still awake by the time she got home. She had heard the fiddles from halfway down the street and stopped to gather herself before entering the house and demanding to know what in Durin’s name they thought they were doing still up at this hour. 

And she’d heard one of them, Fili, she thought, roaming around in the pre-dawn hours. Although he scurried off back to bed by the way she got her wrapper on and made it to her bedroom door. 

If Fili was hurt through inattention today she intended to lay the blame directly at Dain’s feet. She’d asked him to explain exactly what he was thinking even considering taking her boys halfway across the world. He shrugged it off, of course. Patted her and told her not to worry. That it had only been an idea, and a good one. Whilst she ground her teeth he told her with a smile that if she wanted to coddle her boys, considering her own past, then that was fair enough. He wished them all well. She’d almost murdered him right there, and she might yet. Fili was beside himself with worry and with guilt. They hadn’t spoken properly but she knew her boy. He was distracted when he really couldn’t afford to be. Pre-occupied and fretful when his thoughts should be focused on the match in front of him. That was Dain’s fault and if she was feeling uncharitable, which she was, then she would be inclined to believe the timing might have been deliberate.

“Dis.” Thorin’s voice was low in her ear as the crowd howled around them. A wave of clapping and celebration broke through her thoughts as his fingers pried hers gently from the railing. He wrapped his hand tightly around hers and patted it gently. “Hold on to me, and take Kili’s hand. He’ll need you.”

She blinked and watched Dwalin raise his axe over his head in victory. Blindly she reached out and grasped Kili’s fingers in hers.

* * *

Fraeg swore as the crowd roared. He turned to Fili. “Looks like I’m up against Thorin’s warmaster then, or the dwarfling tutor. I’m not sure what exactly he is, or what he’s actually taught you. Apart from dancing around. Tell me this. How can you have a warmaster if you never actually go to war?”

Fili picked up his helm. He didn’t want to talk with Fraeg.

“Ah. We’re not speaking then, Prince Fili. I understand.” Fraeg grinned and pulled on his own helm. His eyes, the only part of his face left visible, glittered. “But you should maybe have taken the opportunity. You may not be able to speak when I’m done with you, although I do feel like I should give the crowd a bit of sport. How about I switch my axe to my left hand?”

“You mean you can’t use both?” Fili rammed his helm on and lifted his axe and shield as the marshals called their names. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

The sun beat down on him as he marched out toward the ring. Fraeg somewhere on his right. Probably. He could hear the crunch of heavy footsteps against the gravel and feel a looming presence, but couldn’t see anything because of the fool helm that restricted his eyeline. It was ridiculous.

He stopped in front of the marshal, with the sweat already rolling down his back, as they were forced to listen again to the rules. He just wanted to be done now. Whatever was to come. Then he was going to go straight down to their ridge and remove every single piece of armour. He would pile it all up and then pitch it piece by piece down into the valley below. Kili could help if he wanted. It would be a fitting end to the day. Which had to be the hottest day of the year, maybe even his life, and the hottest time of the day into the bargain. His arms and legs ached from the hours of practice with Dwalin the day before. He was tired to his very bones, and he hadn’t even so much as swung his axe yet. He snorted as he remembered Dwalin’s parting words. Relax and enjoy himself. He would do that when this was over. The marshal stopped mid-sentence and looked at him curiously. Fili muttered an apology and the dwarf frowned and continued. 

At last they were released to their places and instructed to turn and salute Thorin. Fili moved automatically but didn’t see his uncle’s face. His eyes fixed on Kili.

His petty annoyances faded as his blood cooled and he studied his brother’s smile. He was more rattled than he cared to admit about Dain’s suggestion. Even though Amad had pulled him aside when she got home and whispered that she would never allow it. Not in a hundred years. Yet it still preyed on his mind. The expression that flickered across Kili’s face at the thought of orc hunting by Dain’s side. Excitement and longing. A true adventure, and one that he was willing to deny his brother. Which was hardly fair when Fili was being taken away so often to work with Thorin, and, according to Balin, his responsibilities as the Crown Prince would only increase as time went on. It was beyond selfish of him to expect Kili to always be there, waiting patiently for any crumbs of time Fili could spare, but the thought of his baby brother so far away from him twisted and tore at his heart. He couldn’t remember a time without Kili by his side, not with any clarity, and he didn’t want to.

Thorin was speaking. His uncle’s voice carried across the silent arena as he wished them well. Fili shook out his shoulders, and forced himself to focus on Fraeg and the task immediately ahead of him, as they turned on their marks to face each other and the marshal began to count them down.

Fraeg expected the feint but mercifully lunged the wrong direction and Fili was past before he could properly react. The axe blow as the warrior turned to follow only a brush against Fili’s shield, and not nearly enough to knock him off balance. He even managed to get a quick hit in himself, which made him feel much better, before he retreated quickly out of range.

Dwalin had caught up with him and Kili as they left dinner. Under the bright light of the summer moon they made their way to the deserted tourney ground and paced out the centre ring. Walking and then running. Over and over until Dwalin was satisfied.

Fraeg roared and charged. Fili skipped away. A half step closer to the line.

He could hammer at Fraeg until full winter arrived, but there was no possible way he could hope to knock the fully armoured warrior off his feet. Dwalin had told him so. The weight difference between them was far too great, and one solid hit from Fraeg would knock him flying. Dwalin had told him that too. Fast and agile would serve him better than his axe in this fight.

Fraeg’s next lunge was closer, Fili retreated and feinted again. But Fraeg had the measure of him now, and the axe swing was a little too close for comfort as Fili dodged past. He considered his next move. If he could just work out a way to lure Fraeg over the line then he would have the win. Until then — he skipped out of range again — he just needed to keep moving and wait for an opportunity to present itself. 

As he led the warrior a merry dance around the ring Fili felt his confidence slowly rise. His eyes burned as the sweat rolled down his face and he comforted himself that, if he was feeling the effects of the heat and exertion, then the relentless sun and movement must also be sapping Fraeg’s strength too. He ducked under another strike. As he spun away he heard Fraeg swear, even over the noise of the crowd, and his heart lifted.

And then his luck ran out.

Fili saw the incoming heavy overhand blow and flung his shield desperately above his head. The impact reverberated through his bones and drove him to one knee. His first thought that it would take more than one hot bath to soothe his neck and arms. His second to shift the shield and block the next strike. It buckled his shield and pushed him backward, and nearly down fully to the arena floor. The thick dust puffed around him and stung at his eyes as he watched Fraeg from under the protection of the shield. The warrior stepped closer. 

It was over. The marshals would whistle in a moment and stop the bout. His heart thudded in his ears and drowned out the roar of the crowd. What if they didn’t stop it? The helm suddenly didn’t seem like such a terrible thing as thoughts of Dain’s war stories flitted quickly through his head. Rent armour and split helms. A thin layer of metal was barely any protection.

Fili dropped his axe and cursed the clumsiness of the gauntlet as he scraped together a handful of dust and gravel. Fraeg roared and lifted up onto his toes, and Fili knew the axe was being drawn back for the third, and probably final, blow. With the battered shield still held over his head he shot to his feet with a yell and flung the handful of stones at Fraeg’s helm. Not pausing to look, and braced to be flung from his feet, he raced for the furthest edge of the ring.

The desperate attack worked. Fili spun before the rope on the far side with his shield raised and was surprised to find Fraeg not at his heels. Instead the warrior stood exactly where he’d left him, and Fili grinned as he watched Fraeg vigorously shake his head. Some of the stones and dust must have fallen inside. He whooped as loud as he could in triumph and relief. Now he just needed to get to his axe, which unfortunately lay just behind Fraeg’s feet, and go back to the original plan. But the axe didn’t matter. Although it would look better if he had an actual weapon. What did matter was that his aches and the heaviness in his limbs were a distant memory, swept away as if by magic, and he felt lighter. Like he could run all day.

He shifted his stance as Fraeg lifted his head and glowered at him. Fraeg couldn’t run all day, and, more importantly, he looked angry. That was good, because angry dwarves made stupid mistakes. Dwalin said that all the time. So all Fili needed to do was make him even angrier.

Which should be easy.

He bounced on his toes and beckoned to Fraeg. “Come on then!” he yelled. “Or do you yield?”

Fraeg roared in response and lumbered toward him with his axe raised. Fili took a final bounce and charged to meet him.

Just out of range of the axe, and with a quick prayer that he hadn’t miscalculated and was about to be split in two, he threw himself into a slide under Fraeg’s shield arm. Half blind from the dust he scrambled for his axe and laughed as his fingers wrapped around the shaft.

But he hadn’t counted on rage giving Fraeg speed.

Almost on his feet and with axe firmly in hand he didn’t even see the blow that caught him. It struck his side like a hammer and lifted him completely off his feet and over the line. He landed shoulder first and rolled head over heels as the whistles cut through the cheers of the crowd.

It was over.

And it hadn’t gone as badly as he reckoned it would. 

Fili tried to spit the dust out of his mouth as he got unsteadily to his feet. His legs were shaking and everything hurt. Although not half as badly as he expected it might have done without the armour. He rotated his shoulder slowly and looked around for his axe and shield. One of the marshals shouted at him and he raised a hand to confirm he was fine. 

It was so hot he felt lightheaded. He couldn’t breathe.

Quickly he tugged off his helm and sucked in a deep breath. Then another. Dimly he heard the crowd roaring and he willed himself not to faint or be sick as black spots danced in front of his eyes. Gradually the dizziness passed and he considered the helm clutched in his hand. Perhaps he would spare the armour from a sail off the ridge after all, but first chance he got he was taking the helm to the forge and melting it down. 

The marshal moved toward him with concern on his face. Fili shook his head urgently and walked toward Fraeg, hoping he didn’t look as unsteady on his feet as he felt as he reached out a hand. For a moment he didn’t think Fraeg would take it but, after a heartbeat of hesitation, he did, and Fili raised their joined hands to the crowd. 

The roars were deafening and he grinned happily. He might have barely managed to land a blow, but he wasn’t carried out of the arena and things could have been a lot worse. And it was over. It was more than he had dared to hope for. 

It started in the northmost stand, and spread through the others like a wildfire.

A rhythmic stamp of boots against stone that echoed around the arena, and the chant of a name like a drumbeat.

With his ears still ringing Fili thought it was Fraeg they called for and, as Fraeg dropped their hands, he turned to applaud him. The best warrior won after all. As he tucked the helm securely under his arm and began to clap he was surprised to see Fraeg and the marshals applauding him.

One of the marshals grinned and jerked his head toward the crowd and only then did the realisation set in. Fili looked around the stands in wonder and disbelief. Completely confused and not sure what to do. Uncertainly he raised his helm and the crowd responded with wild cheers. Hurts completely forgotten he grinned and dropped the helm so he could raise his hands above his head and applaud them as hard as he could. Then he made sure to turn and bow low to all the sections, including the Royal Stand where he could see Kili and Amad cheering and his uncle clapping, with a huge smile on his face.

He could have stood there forever, and the crowd showed no signs of stopping, but it was probably enough. A final wave to the crowd and he followed Fraeg toward the gates. A bounce in his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having so much fun writing this story. It's definitely got a lot longer than in my original plan but we're over the halfway point now. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Hope you're enjoying it!


	14. Underdog

He wasn’t waiting on anyone else this time.

Murmuring apologies, Kili squeezed past Dain and the other lords in the front row and flung himself toward the steps. He raced down them two at a time, and dodged around the dwarves milling about, to make it to the gates just as Fili passed through the archway. Not caring who saw him he flung himself at his brother and knocked Fili a full step backward, despite the armour.

“Hello, little brother.” Fili grinned. “Turns out I couldn’t win for a second time after all. Didn’t I tell you?”

“You’d have won if you had your swords.”

Fili patted his back. “You’re very kind, but you still think too highly of me. Let me go. I can’t breathe. There’s Gimli. Gimli!”

Gimli hurried down the outer stairwell of the western stand, and jogged toward them. A bulky wooden tray hanging from his shoulder by its leather strap and a heavy looking bag bouncing against his hip.

“It suits you, cousin.” Fili smiled as Gimli joined them. “A bit of honest work. Have you sold out?”

“Hope not.” Gimli waved the empty tray. “I'm going back to Bombur to restock, but I wanted to say hello first. It’s completely mad out there. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been up and down those steps, but it must be a thousand at least. I haven’t stopped for a moment. I didn’t miss you getting knocked on your backside though.”

“Good, so long as you saw that. What’s in the bag?”

“Get out of it.” Gimli slapped Fili’s gauntlet away. “Coin, and some pies that I dropped when someone fell into me.”

“Give me one. I’m starving.” Fili pulled the gauntlets off and threw them to Kili. He eyed Gimli. “How badly did they fall? Did you put either of your feet on them? Did anyone else?”

“No. I’m going to get Bombur to heat them up again and then I’m going to sell them. Get off me. You can buy one, like everyone else.”

“I don’t exactly have pockets in this, and I’m not about to buy something you’ve already kicked around the stands.” Gimli squawked angrily as Fili wrapped an arm around his neck and flipped the bag open. “These look fine though. Oh, and they’re still warm too. Relax and stop squirming, cousin, you’ll hurt your hand hitting me. Do you want one, Kili?”

Kili shook his head as Fili released Gimi and ruffled their cousin’s hair. They had been setting out lunch in the Royal Stand when he left, but he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything just yet, and certainly not something covered in dust — and Durin only knew what else. He watched his brother tear into the pie happily. It was good to see him relaxed. He looked like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Fili held out a piece to him and Kili shook his head.

“It’s from the middle,” said Fili, through a mouthful, “but if you’re sure.”

“You’re an animal, and you owe me a coin.” Gimli showed Kili the heavy purse tucked inside the bag. “You should have worked today too. I’ve made a fortune. See. It’s not all mine obviously but I get a coin for every twenty I sell, which Adad said was a pretty good deal. We could have worked together.”

Thorin would never have allowed it in a thousand years, but he knew Gimli was feeling left out with all the princely activities so Kili nodded. “Next time, hopefully.”

“That was really nice.” Fili licked his fingers. “I’ll have another one, Gimli.”

“No.” Gimli clutched his bag tighter and pointed the tray at Fili. “No, you won’t. Back off. You’ve to go upstairs, and there’s plenty of food up there. I’m already losing coin standing here and talking without giving you any more.”

Fili glanced toward the steps. “That’ll be all fussy, polite food.” He pulled a face. “If there’s anything left. But it’ll have to do I suppose. Since you’re being a—”

“I thought I told you not to let him hit you?”

Fili spun to face Dwalin. “I told you I couldn’t see.”

“And where are your things?”

“Oh.” Fili looked through the gates.

“Yes, oh.”

“I’ll get them,” offered Kili. He didn’t particularly want to run out into the arena, but everyone would be busy having a break before the final. From what he could see of the stands through the gate they looked relatively empty. Likely the temporary taverns set up around the outside of the arena wall were very busy.

“You’re not his servant.” Dwalin gripped Kili’s forearm and jerked an armoured thumb toward the gates. “Off you go.”

Grumbling darkly under his breath, Fili jogged back toward the gates and into the arena.

“Should you not be resting?” Kili looked up at Dwalin.

“Resting.” Dwalin snorted. “Hardly necessary, and I’ve had enough of sitting in that chamber and listening to Fraeg rabbit on. He talks the biggest load of...what, in Durin’s name, is going on in there?”

Loud cheering drifted from the gates. Dwalin released Kili’s arm and the three of them drew closer. In the centre of the arena Fili stood alone with the axe and shield at his feet, and the helm dangling from his hand. As they watched Fili pointed toward the remaining crowd in the north stand who roared as one in response.

“Don’t you dare,” muttered Dwalin.

Kili bounced on his toes and cheered as Fili charged toward the north stand and hurled the helm underarm high above the crowd. A clamour broke out in the stand and the crowd roared wildly as, after a short brawl, a dwarf waved the helm triumphantly above his head. Fili crowed happily and ran back to pick up his axe and shield, clapping the crowd as he went.

Gimli sighed heavily. “He’s going to be insufferable after this.”

* * *

There wasn’t much food left by the time they made it up the steps and joined the dwarf lords. Kili picked through the scattered remains and filled a plate for Fili.

“I think Bombur has more set aside, in case we ran out.” The dwarf behind the long table smiled at him. “I can go fetch some.”

Kili glanced around the Royal Stand. Everyone else seemed finished with the food and looked well settled into their tankards. He didn’t want to put her to any trouble and shook his head. “No, thanks. This will do fine. It looks really nice.”

“Hello, Dirga.” Fili’s armoured shoulder nudged his. “Did you leave anything but crumbs for me, Kili?”

He offered the plate. Fili smiled at him and shook his head.

“No, brother, it’s for us to share.”

“Oh, that’s fine then.” Fili lifted a piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth. He sighed happily. “This is amazing. Is there any ale?”

Dirga lifted two tankards from under the table. “There’s plenty of that but you should maybe have some water first, Prince Fili. You’re looking very warm.”

“Less of the prince please, and I expect you’re right.” Fili accepted the tankard and drained it. He handed it back to her with a smile. “Done. I think I’m melting inside this armour, but when I tried to take it off Thorin caught me and made put me every piece of it back on. Even though I’m wearing a mail shirt underneath, so it’s not as if it’s even close to indecent. But no matter, can I have ale now? Where’s the little ones today?”

“Running rings around their uncle, I would imagine. The boys were very disappointed that they couldn’t come but I’m glad. It’s far too rough for them out there today, although everyone was very good with them during the first round. I lost count of how many sets of shoulders they were on.”

Kili hadn’t realised either Dirga or Bombur had a brother, and Fili must have read it in his face. “Bofur, Bombur’s brother, travelled in with the Stiffbeards. You’ve probably seen him amongst all the new faces. I’ll introduce you at dinner. You’ll like him. He’s very funny.”

“He managed to get himself that stall in the market. We found out yesterday,” said Dirga, as she handed them brimming tankards.

Kili took a sip of the cool ale, and wondered how it was that Fili knew everything and everybody as his brother nodded and smiled. Although perhaps this was all part of their quest for information, and Fili just hadn’t had time to tell him yet. They had studied faces together at dinners and gatherings the whole way through the celebrations. Whispering quietly as they searched smiles and eyes for a family resemblance, and watching closely in case Thorin or Amad paid anyone any special attention. It was worrying, and more than a little frustrating, that everything was already drawing to a close, and the Stiffbeards would leave to return to their homes far to the East, and yet he and Fili were no further forward. With Fili’s prompting Kili had gathered up his courage and spoken to a few of the Stiffbeards at the various feasts throughout the celebrations, but none of the dwarves he spoke to volunteered any information or introduced themselves as family. And he knew Fili hadn’t managed to nose out anything either. Maybe they needed to rethink their questions, and be a bit more direct. 

“That’s excellent news.” Fili turned to him and lifted some more chicken. “Eat up, brother. So, Bofur is for staying then?”

Kili juggled plate and tankard and managed to break off a small corner of pie. He nibbled at it to keep his brother happy. Maybe this Bofur would have information. If they could ask in such a way that it wouldn’t get back to Amad and upset her again. Fili had already been told once, in no uncertain terms, that their family were right here in the halls and they needed no other. He glanced at Fili. Maybe they should try asking Thorin outright before everyone left, or perhaps Balin. 

“Yes,” said Dirga. “He says he doesn’t want to miss the little ones growing up. Isn’t that nice?”

That made sense. Kili nodded as he smiled at Dirga and tried not to feel jealous. Dwarves were all about family, so surely there must be at least one uncle or distant cousin that they should meet. It was all very strange. He couldn’t help but feel that they were a disappointment in some way, and that was why no-one would acknowledge them. But then he’d been watching the stands after Fili’s bout, and the Stiffbeards that he recognised had shouted for his brother as enthusiastically as anyone else. So perhaps if Fili made a big, but subtle, effort tonight at the feast they would finally have some luck.

Fili nudged him. “You haven’t seen the brand new dwarfling yet, Kili? She’s a lovely little thing. All smiles, and with the tiniest fingers and toes you’ve ever seen. Thorin took me with him to talk with Bombur about the food for today.”

“I don’t think you heard a word of it,” said Dirga.

“No.” Fili grinned. “I might have got a bit distracted.”

Dirga laughed and took Fili’s tankard to refill it. “You should have seen him, Prince Kili. I popped into the work kitchen for a moment and when I came back your brother was settled down on the floor with the boys, and my little lass in his arms.”

“They were showing me their new toys. They have a wooden horse that moves all by itself, and I’ve never seen anything like it, so I’m really looking forward to seeing Bofur’s stall. And then the little one started making noise as soon as you stepped out, Dirga, so I thought I should have a try and see if I could quieten her. Seems like I haven’t forgotten how to, even after all these years.” Fili winked at Kili. “She was a lot easier than you though. You were deafening, and once you got yourself wound up properly there was no reasoning with you.”

“You’re a natural. I think she would have gone home with you without so much as a second glance, and the boys too. Fickle creatures. Do you two want any more before I start clearing up?”

They shook their heads and Kili handed her back the empty plate.

“I suppose we should go back to our seats. I’m looking forward to seeing Dwalin in action properly.” Fili shook out his shoulders in a rattle of metal. “Thanks, Dirga. Nice to talk about something for a moment or two that isn’t axes, or how much I owe Thorin for that helm. I have a suspicion that I might be mucking out the stables for a while, or trying my hand at mining.”

From the noise level of the crowd they were all back at their places and ready for the final. As they turned away from the table Fili whispered, “Will you stand beside Dain and let me stand with Amad? I’m pretty sure he called me some sort of dog earlier, although I might have misheard him because there was three of them trying to talk to me at once.”

“Of course.” Underdog, that was likely what it was, but Fili probably didn’t need to hear that though. “Dain was cheering for you.”

“Was he?” Fili seemed pleased. “That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t have expected that.”

Kili nodded. No-one had expected it. The Royal Stand had fallen silent as Dain punched the air and roared Fili’s name. He turned to look at their stunned faces and shrugged. 

“He’s still going to lose,” he said, as the crowd howled with laughter and Fraeg tried to shake the dust out of his helm. “But I like to see a bit of spirit. Go on the lot of you. Cheer the lad on properly. Look, he hasn’t even got his axe.”

With a laugh Thorin joined Dain in shouting for Fili before falling back into polite clapping. They didn’t join in with the stamping and chanting for Fili at the end, it wouldn’t have been proper, but Kili felt his heart might actually burst with pride for his brother as the entire arena reverberated around them. From the expressions on their faces he was sure Amad and Thorin had felt exactly the same. 

The dwarf lords were already returned to their places as he and Fili approached the front row. Thorin beckoned them along and pulled Fili across to his other side whilst Kili bit down his disappointment. He had hoped they could stand together for the last bout.

Amad smiled up at him. “You’ll just have to make do with me and Dain. Did you eat anything, or were you just drinking ale for lunch?”

Thankfully the roar of the crowd as Dwalin and Fraeg walked out toward the centre of the arena distracted her before Kili could answer. He looked around the crowd for Gimli, and spotted him down in the front row of the east stand with Balin, Gloin and Molir. Kili smiled. Even from this distance he could see the pink in Gloin’s cheeks. It could have been the sun, and the tankard in his hand could have been water, but it was unlikely. He watched them roar with laughter about something and Gimli shake his head in response. It looked like they were having fun. Maybe he and Fili should have sneaked off when they had the opportunity rather than rejoining the stuffy lords in the Royal Stand. He glanced past Amad at his uncle talking quietly with Fili. No. Thorin was right, and they were getting far too old for mischief.

Dwalin slammed his axe and shield together and roared, and in a cloud of dust the two warriors charged toward each other. The arena echoed with cheers as weapons clashed and they met each other strike for heavy strike. Kili forgot to clap as he leaned forward to watch closely. They broke apart and circled, and as the dust rose around them he could imagine them on a battlefield. Surrounded by enemies. It was sobering, and like nothing he’d ever witnessed before. He stole a quick glance at Fili who was focused intently on the bout. They’d seen Dwalin and Thorin spar many times before, and grown up watching all the older, battle hardened dwarves spar, but this was different. These two looked as if they truly intended to kill each other.

The crowd cheered as Dwalin blocked an axe blow and spun to slam an armoured elbow hard into Fraeg’s visor. Kili winched despite himself in sympathy as Fraeg took a step backward. The warrior rallied, even though his head must be spinning, with a heavy swing that Dwalin just blocked. Kili’s mouth hung open as he watched. He couldn’t believe he’d dreamed of battle and making a name for himself. He would be dead within moments if this was even the smallest glimpse of what it could be like. Him and Fili both. Although Fili might last a while longer.

A roar echoed around the arena as Dwalin was driven to one knee. Kili was certain he heard Balin’s voice shout over the rest, even though that surely wasn’t possible. He definitely heard his uncle make a noise though, and Fili completely forgot himself as he yelled for their tutor to get up. Fraeg didn’t push his advantage, perhaps suspecting a trap and another handful of gravel in his face, and Dwalin leapt back on his feet. The fury of his blows drove Fraeg back almost to the line, and Dwalin’s plan was obvious. Both to the crowd, and to Fraeg who fought with a renewed fury. With his boot on the line Fraeg knocked away Dwalin’s axe and slammed a shoulder into Dwalin’s chest in an attempt to knock him back. Dwalin responded by crashing his head into Fraeg’s, and Kili grimaced. That was bound to have stunned them both, but it was Fraeg who seemed to have come off worse. As Dwalin stepped back, Fraeg was unable to raise his shield in time and Dwalin’s axe tucked in tight between Fraeg’s neck and shoulder. 

The crowd roared, almost drowning out the sound of the marshals whistles, and Dwalin raised his arms in triumph.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting a lot of practice with fight scenes in this story! Not sure I'm getting much better at them but they're a lot of fun to write anyway.


End file.
